A Life Less Ordinary
by shutupmidnight
Summary: humantalia AU where Lars is a lecturer at a university in Frankfurt ends up getting screwed over by lady luck and fate (or maybe it was just his sister) and moves in with a certain Dane who confuses him more than anything but he really doesn't do much about it . Rated M for later chapters.
1. strange and stranger still

human AU I've been contemplating to post or not but eh hey whatever what have i got to lose  
sorry about the densu fic i posts a few days ago it got taken down (wow ty ) but it can be found on my AO3 prussiasnipples  
anyway so  
im really really sorry if it's too OOC but yeah if you like it feel free to drop a comment and I'll only continue this if it gets a good response probably.

* * *

_His hands combed through the limp hair resting on his lap as one would a cat, crying to comfort the Dane who didn't suit the silence that swept over him and stole his voice. Books and papers and broken glass surrounded the two of them and long since dried tears stained dark patches onto Lars' jeans and carved a stream of dried salt water into Mathias' cheeks. He didn't understand why the silence seemed so heavy, why the room was ripped to shreds and why when he'd come in to check on the blonde who was curled in on himself on top of a bed of paperwork he was told in a broken voice to get out while he could._

_Mathias rose his head and looked up at the Dutchman, his eyes dead and his lips a thin line as he untangled his hands from his shirt. Sheer madness stuttered his words and pushed them together in a rambled mess "I thought I told you to go. I told you to leave so many time times why did you never leave? Don't get attached go while you can."_

_Lars simply held him closer._

_It was too late to consider it._

* * *

Lars Peeters moved to Frankfurt with his younger sister Alice for work after years of going in between their birth countries of Belgium and Netherlands. They'd been okay with that set up, and they'd been glued to each other's hip since they could remember yet now the Dutchman stood outside an impressively tall building that made his insides churn uncomfortably and was being pushed aside by the traffic of people on the side walk. His sister had slapped down the advert in front of him without a word and a very pointed stare that had him terrified to defy her. Look, she was scary when she wanted to be despite the cute face and bubbly personality. Later on she had told him that it was closer to the university so he would stop complaining about biking at ungodly hours of the morning to get to work on time and it would be good for him to make friends with somebody who wasn't some stereotypically pissed off Englishman. He'd accepted reluctantly and looking down at the thick paper in his hands he wasn't sure he'd go through with his promise.

_Flatmate needed  
rent $170  
call me for the rest of the details ;)  
_  
And he stood with the expensive looking paper pinched between his fingers with pipe sitting on his lips and the wind forcing his tattered scarf to try and strangle him to death as he counted up the levels of the high rising building that looked so much more intimidating up close. Bulky headphones blocked out the sound around him and the angered mutterings of the people around him when he wouldn't move from his spot and after double taking at the almost penthouse looking- no seriously what the fuck is this building people don't live in places like this in the real world - he shook his head, tucked the paper back in his pocket and turned away. True it was given to him by Alice who was no doubt getting sick of the spare room reeking like cheap booze and pot but noway in hell would he be seen stepping a foot in there nor would it even be worth his time, he'd just be dragged out on heel anyway.

Fate unfortunately decided at that moment to strike down on him and he found himself walking face first into a blonde male around the same height as him and with a smile that made him want to wipe it off as soon as he caught sight of it...well that was before their heads collided together. Cursing under his breath the other male clutched his forehead, eyes squeezed shut in pain before he looked up, and burst out into laughter. The corners of his impossibly blue eyes crinkled to accompany the dazzling smile worn on the blonde's lips to show off perfectly straight teeth (how the shit is that even possible those were crafted by a god) and just that smile was enough to probably cause a few car crashes, like the crashing of his heart against his ribcage but that wasn't too important at the moment.

The strangely blue irises flicked to stare right at the Dutchman, his pupils either blown huge in interest or he was taking something. Whoever this man was Lars already felt himself sitting on the fence about if he liked him or not since sure he had a nice face but there was a bit of plasticity and arrogance to the way he held himself from the smile that was too big for his face to the sharply cut and form fitting black suit he wore which only just let an ox blood shirt remain visible from beneath the white trim of the collar and the black tie that had something white smudged on it that had Lars hoping to God, Jehovah, Moses, Buddha whoever that it was just a toothpaste stain, and then -oh for the love of fuck- he just had to let the tip of his pink tongue dart out and moisten thin lips before he chose to speak in thickly accented English. But the look in his eye just didn't match the curve of his lips that made the shape of his words look inciting but were however tainted with an undeniable accent that suggested something more Scandinavian rather than the German Lars had long since grown accustomed to. "Sorry bout that, wow haha I haven't been head butted in a long time, can I help you? Ya look a little lost."

_Yeah in your fucking eyes you Nordic beauty Jesus fucking Christ._ "Ah no I was just looking for somebody it's not import-"

"You don't look like the type to be hanging around somewhere like here. Unless ripped jeans are suddenly 'in'." He wasn't even looking at Lars, eyes turned down to the end of his cigarette as he lit it. Dick. "So I'm guessing you're here for the ad then?"

"How did you-"

"Lucky guess, anyway you did call about it so may as well show you know that you're here."

"I was just going to lea-" He tried to fight against the surprisingly strong grip that took purchase on his arm. "Excuse me wait what you're the guy with the thing? And the winky face, why the fuck did you put a wink-"

"Yeah I'm the guy with the thing and the winky face. Sue me." He snuffed his cigarette on the pure white of the building before he let go and walked forward as if he expected the Dutchman to follow. Even if this guy was top model beauty he was starting to give off the air of being an arrogant prick. "So are you coming or not?"

"I'm..." He gritted his teeth around his unlit pipe and counting backwards from ten he gave himself a moment to consider it.

May as well milk it.  
Rich boys who like to party, well...  
at least the alcohol would be better and not the usual stuff he brought that had the same consistency and taste of urine.

He nodded.

"Brilliant. Copenhagen. 23. Mathias. Let us continue."

"24. Amsterdam. Lars."

"I didn't ask."

xxx

He was going to take it, and despite the fact he'd already decided his opinion on the Dane in which case he's a rich prick with nice taste in liquor but still a prick, even if he tried to talk himself into saying no he couldn't help but be amazed by the unbelievably clean rooms with the most breathtaking views that he'd only seen in ads, clear blue skies appeared endless until they merged with the high rising buildings in Frankfurt and without much of a thought he slapped down the $170 and continued to look around to his own leisure after the Dane excused himself to take a call. The bathrooms were all brick walls and wide windows, the floors vanished wood and the kitchen large and clean save for a few dirty dishes on the benches, and the spare rooms where almost as big as the living room and he couldn't help but feel a little more than relieved in some ways that he might actually have a place to stay that wasn't his sisters.

Despite the company he'd be with he liked it enough that maybe Mathias would be tolerable enough.

He wandered around for a while longer, scanning the shelves in the living room that claimed the walls, book titles he'd never heard of and some he wasn't sure should even exist. From outside on the balcony behind the glass of the sliding doors he could hear the Dane growling down the end of the line, scowling as he spoke in a way that had the Dutchman reeling backwards and choosing to look around again. Anyway he hadn't checked the room at the end of the hall yet which he took to be the blonde's.

A bed stretched along one side of the wall, black sheets folded neatly at the end of the bed and seemingly hundreds upon hundreds of photographs and notes of writing were tacked or stuck to the wall above the mattress in one form or another. He took a moment to scan over a few, pictures of the Dane smiling with his arm wrapped around somebody's waist, his lips on dozens of other's, scenery and random people off the streets, places he'd never been to or found familiar in some of the glossy photographs. On the wall across it had a similar set up to the lounge books ordered from author that took up the entirely of the wall from top to bottom.

A single book however lay on top of the bed sheets and picking it up he turned it over in his hands, post it notes sticking out from in between the pages that he had to be careful not to move as he looked for a title._ 'Hans Christen Andersen: The complete Fairy tales' _

"You're Alice's brother aren't you?" The voice came from behind him causing him to tense and clutch the book to his chest. "She told me you'd be coming over to look at the flat it's nice to know you're accepting the offer."

He turned around, confusion written across his face. Mathias was leaning nonchalantly against the door frame, arms crossed. "Alice asked me for a favour to have you in seeing as you'd been looking for a place near campus that wasn't some run down shit hole right?"

Lars nodded utterly speechless.

"That ad was just made for fun so it didn't look like charity. Anyway Alice found it amusing enough at the time when I gave it to her, so..." The Dane laughed quietly to himself. "I hope you don't mind."

"Ah...nee...it's fine I guess..." He dropped his gaze back down to the hard covered book, fingering the edges of the colourful pieces of paper the corner of his lips arched up in a half smile. "You like fairy tales."

"Have you read Hand Christen Andersen's?" When he shook his head the Dane looked almost offended. "Looks like I'm going to have to change that."

Lars put it back down where it was originally, fingers lingering on the textured leather cover for a few moments. Pulling his coat tighter around himself he looked up at the Dane who was staring at him curiously, and it was as if the ocean were alive in his eyes staring him down and into his soul and oh god that was bone chilling but he couldn't find himself to look away and for a few minutes it was absolutely silent for a while, the activity of the city distant and their breathing almost silent. That arrogance seemed to be gone for a while, that optimistic air that hit him like a storm was neutral and Lars was confused as the seriousness began to engrave itself where the smile once was.

"I should be going." Lars finally said, breaking through the silence and he dragged in breaths from the thick air. The Dane blinked, the smile coming back as quickly as it had gone and nodded before pushing away from the door to let him through.

"Call me if you want some help with packing or something."

"Of course."

He didn't.

Instead he came the next day at the crack of dawn with his bags in hand and a bottle of wine his sister had forced him to bring with him as a thank you. And said sister he refused to talk to as soon as he walked through the door in the weakest form of revenge, it still worked she grew frustrated and left him to fume by himself for which he was grateful and felt just a tad bit guilty about. But hey she had it coming, basically throwing him to the care of a work friend and/or what he suspected to be (more than) friend.

As soon as he was at his sister's apartment, mentally exhausted from the meet and greet and gradually starting to feel a knot of worry in his stomach he rolled over onto his stomach, turned music on as loud as it could get until it could be heard outside of his headphones and tried to repress irrational dread. Alice sat on the end of his bed and he knew, he could feel her bouncing on the end of the mattress to get his attention and when she didn't she all but ripped out his music and scowled down at him.

"Stop sulking you're too old for that now." Manicured nails clawed at his scalp to get him to look at her, shooting a glare in her direction he sat up and as far away from her as he could.

"Who is he and why did you send me to him?"

"...Work friend."

He stared at her until she shifted awkwardly under his deadpan. Tipping her head back and groaning she gave in and confirmed his suspicions. But from the turn of her lips he couldn't tell if she was being serious or was just teasing him. "Okay fine we have a sort of not really friends with benefits thing going on. And I'm putting you under his care because it'd do you some good to be staying with somebody who oh isn't your little sister."

"Hardly little."

"Calling me fat?"

"Maybe."

"Fuck you."

"Incest is frowned upon nowadays." He smothered his smile with his hands, burying his face into his palms. "He's a dick."

"He's not that bad. You don't even know him."

"I don't think I want to."

"You're on a roll of smart ass tonight."

"Oh I wonder why."

A pillow was thrown at his face and by the time he'd peeled it off she was storming out of the room, muttering under her breath in French about how much of an ungrateful shit he was. As soon as she'd gone he took to pulling out his computer and tapping the Dane's name into the search bar and almost had a panic attack at the storm of page after page after page describing and keeping tabs about the 'Multimillionaire Model Mathias Køhler'. He read, jaw slack at the articles that ripped him apart, praised him and spread out the basics about his life. How he'd ran away when he was younger from the boys boarding school he was shoved into at 14 after his parents died, their deaths written in full detail and twisted a ball of something Lars was unable to care of identifying in his gut. At two in the morning with a bottle of wine his sister left behind that he was supposed to give to Mathias he drank straight from the bottle until his vision blurred the words on every page he had open about his soon to be flat mate. There was next to nothing about how he was personally. Irrationally irritated he turned his computer off and lay back staring at the blank white ceiling with the bottle at his lips to take lazy drags at.

He still had half naked images burned into his retinas from his 'research'.

Shamefully he let his hands wander down his briefs.

xxx

"Have we met somewhere before?" Lars said over a cup of coffee and a sandwich. A bemused smile crossed Mathias for a few moments before he took his time to reply. "I feel like I know you from somewhere."

"Unless you've been reading up on fashion I'm going with the idea of lovers in a past life. But..." The tip of a pink tongue flicked out to moisten a thin lipped smile and he shrugged, averting his eyes almost immediately after. "Who knows."

Lars stared at him a while longer, the same incredulous look he'd given his sister no less than 10 hours ago, noting the knowing smile on the Danes face and he continued to stare until he let up whatever knowledge he had with a hefty sigh and his hands being tossed in the air. "Okay fine I was your sisters booty call for a while and we talked once in the kitchen is that good enough?"

"You what." _She wasn't joking. Oh my god that's a horrible image delete, delete, delete._

"I think you were a little bit more than high but yeah. I slept with your sister on multiple occasions." They continued on in an absolutely awkward silence until Mathias chose to break through it again. "But oh god what if I was right."

"I hope to god you're not."

Lars had gotten there bright and early with a pulsating headache and a duffel bag containing his things and term papers stuffed into his arms. He was surprised to find the blonde awake and looking oddly chirpy as he welcomed him inside and showed him to his room. Which after the drink provided by the other male and thankfully a handful of small white pills to cure his head he immediately took to filling the room with his few possessions, his mind numb as he shuffled around and tried to recreate his impression of Mathias. He seemed more like an actor with the way he spoke, thought out and memorised lines to fool the average person into believing whatever he said. To be honest he shouldn't have agreed to move in with the Dane who concealed himself so perfectly behind suits and obnoxious smiles rather he should have run away and not looked back. Lars was struck back by how his opinion had changed from 'dick' to 'less of a dick' and had him wanting to know just exactly who...

"So I hope you like partying because there's one tonight at ours so too bad. Don't worry they won't go down the hall or anything it's just a little celebration." The blonde grinned a winning smile, leant up against the door frame in a position he seemed to enjoy with his arms crossed across his chest as Lars made the room more 'his'. He didn't even hear him come in.

...this Mathias was.

But like people drawn to the sight of an oncoming tsunami waiting on the beach to watch it before it destroyed everything he let himself be drawn into the strange blonde he thought he had pegged the second he had him.


	2. hands down too proud of love

dry retches i'll write three chapters and if i havent gotten a decent response out of this i'll stop riiiiight there dont want to be too much of a burden on everybody with my bullshit writing haha

but yeah wow actually i might edited the first and second chapters more once i get more inspiration but drat im really really sorry

uh i may or may not have made a mix for this on 8tracks so yeah here we go

8tracks.)com)/minak-o)/hands-down-im-too-proud-for -love

* * *

It was okay the first few months of living with the Dane, he didn't see him half the time and when he did he was either getting smashed by himself or looking over piles and piles of paper work and on the rare occasion curled up half naked on the couch with a novel and a abnormally sized mug of coffee. Or occasionally in the early hours of the morning he'd find him on the balcony, headphones in and swaying from side to side with the beat expression calm and eyes glazed as if under a spell until he really started moving, on several occasions he'd found him with his hands out on either side of him as if he had wings and his head tipped back with a smile as the wind ruffled his hair, and once, three months after he'd moved in, he'd been the one to pull the Dane off the ledge of the railing that he clung to as he looked down at the drop below his feet and murmured to himself about how easy it would be. The was the first time fear tore him down to his rawest form and had silent tears slipping down his cheeks as he gripped on as tight as he could to the Dane who was so close to letting the ground swallow him up. They never talked about that night again. They never talked about how Lars had held the other close who looked at him curiously with his lips pulled down and his eyes made the Dutchman feel as if the blonde had known him all his life and even before. "You've got a bomb between your hands and the weight of the world between your shoulders. Why would you help me?" Mathias muttered, his hand at the Dutchman's cheek and flashed him smile 24, it was sad almost. "You only like the idea of me being your friend, you don't general like me...you should have let me go." And that charming smile broke through 24 until he passed out limp in Lars' arms. He was envious.

He'd learnt that the Dane had a job aside from pouting in front of a camera, businessman he guessed from the way he talked about his job and the amount of sheets of paper he came home with. Mathias would leave every so often with a smile on his face, a suitcase in his hands and the reminded to keep their living space clean/no fucking parties. And who exactly was Lars going to part with? He was only acquainted with a class full of 19 year olds and a handful of teachers, though he did however have his sister over when he felt too exhausted of marking term papers on psychology and looking over lecture schedules. Only his first six months of taking up the job after working his ass off for 4 years straight after high school to get his degree and he was already considering joining Mathias in the life of an alcoholic as well as being entirely dependent on (a few) illegal substances.

But the more times he spent around the blonde no matter how fleeting those moments were, were gradually beginning to grow on him until he looked forward to when they would sit in front of the little electric fire place and bitch about everything they could over a bottle of whatever suited their tastes. Mathias would cook dinner strip off his jacket and waistcoat, loosen his tie and enjoy the night with Lars. It always became apparent in those small moments how the Dane's moods fluctuated and how quickly they did it, he'd hide it perfectly but his voice would grow strained and his eyes guarded whenever he was uncomfortable with whatever thoughts, whatever feelings raced around in that head of his.

He barely spoke of his job when they had the night together, rather he let Lars talk about his own and he would laugh openly when he was amused and sit back with a nearly blank expression of concentration when he spoke. And Lars didn't understand why he was so comfortable talking like that to the Dane when he pretty much shat himself when he spoke to a class of god knows how many about the human mind. The blonde was unbelievably charming in the way he presented himself, in the way he spoke and even in the way he fucking laughed it was as if he'd found something that worked better than anything to keep him calm, his own personal brand of smack and he could covet it as subtly as possible for as long as he wanted. Or at least until he fucked up.

"What are you parents like?" Mathias asked one night, lipping the rim of his wine glass.

"Dead." Lars replied matter-of-factually swishing the red red liquor lazily to make the scent shift. "Double suicide when I was 3 so I never got to know them. Shoved in the system straight away with my sister until our grandparents took us in. You?" Unthinkingly he asked and bit down on his tongue as soon as the _You?_ slipped out.

"Oh fuck I'm so sorry..."

"Don't be like I said I didn't really know them." The Dutchman sat back, true it left a dull ache in his chest but he didn't really feel any true loss. "Are you going to answer my question?'

The stare Mathias gave him made him turn away instantly, it was knowing and he curses under his breath, immediately washing his shame down with a mouthful of wine. They lapsed back into quiet, drinking side by side and enjoying the warmth that came from both fire and the wash of alcohol that started to give them the illusion of heat. Lars however, had to force down what he could, the fluid warmed to room temperature beside the fireplace and it moved thickly down his throat, disgustingly warm but he would not complain even if it felt as if he were drinking blood. Mathias clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, his stare turned down the swirling mouthful of liquor remaining in the glass.

"Once I met a group of Middle Eastern men, I suspected they were, I don't know, Muslims as you do. It was work related however...and I was surprised that men such as them would be working in the same area I was but I wouldn't reduce them down to stereotypes." The Dane finished off his glass and lay back, hands folded across his belly. Lars looked at him from the corner of his eyes, interested in the silence breaker. "Once we finished what we were there to do I asked them out of curiosity, well one of them in particular he looked like...he'd seen a lot you know he looked like he'd been around long before everybody else despite how young he was he just had these deep eyes. Anyway. I asked 'I thought people of faith weren't supposed to gamble?' and he looked so amused 'I'm hardly a religious man despite how I may seem. Are you Mr Køhler?' He said and I shook my head. 'Do I look religious?' But this man, Gupta, I think his name, was stared me down for so fucking long and it felt like he knew me, like he was just in my soul or whatever and then laughed, naturally I asked why he was and he smiled and said 'Of course you're not, you're made of the deadly sins. If God were real he wouldn't allow you to consider faith in fear of you poisoning the pure.''

He fell quiet again and closed his eyes, laughing quietly to himself. "He was the first person I'd ever met who called me out on that." Lars turned his head just as the other rolled onto his side, the side of his face propped up in his hand. "Did you know the inheritance I'd already gotten would be enough for me to retire young? I don't need my job." _Vanity._

"Then why don't you?"

"Because they need me." The Dane stood up, stretching his arms to the ceiling and leaning back until something clicked before he shook out his body and reached behind him for his coat. "I've got another flight out to Italy for a conference I'll be back in a week, 2 max. Enjoy the rest of the wine for me would you?"

Lars nodded and the other smiled in thanks before slipping out the door, case in hand. And sitting on the edge of the balcony even floor upon floor up in the sky he could hear the purring and the roaring of Mathias' motorbike that grew distant before the night plunged into quiet again. He made a note to himself to write down what the other told him while it was still fresh in his mind.

He watched the sky for a moment longer until clouds covered the light of the sky and moving back into the quiet house he breathed in deep, the lounge still smelling of the Dane's cologne and the faint smell of smoke, and a smile he only smiled when he was alone stretched at his cheeks. Going to his room, bare feet against the wooden floors he stopped short before collapsing on the bedding.

On his bed, the sheets messy from the nights before where he was too lazy to actually clean it up lay the book of fairy tales Mathias seemed to adore (worship). The Dutchman smiled to himself, fingers skimming the hard leather covering and the gold lettering. It looked old and it looked loved, the pages smelt like coffee where there were stains and tape was used to keep pages together that were coming loose from the binding. Making a nest of his bedsheets he curled his legs under himself and spent the night reading fairy tales that had been read over and over and over again.

One of the stories held a simple post it where the others had highlighter and smudges of pen on lines, quotes and paragraphs. Frowning at the language he couldn't understand, Danish written in scrawled in messy script he chose to paused for a moment, make himself a coffee and drag his beat up laptop onto the bed with him to search for a decent translator.

_The little mermaid was a love letter from Hans to Edvard...huh.  
_  
Frowning Lars tried to stop himself from looking into it further, curiosity getting the best of him he found himself scanning through the webpage after webpage. Sitting back with his eyebrows raised he gave himself a few minutes to digest the new information before picking up the book again and choosing to read the tale, when he lifted the note carefully so not to disturb it's placement written on the back of it in at least a language he could read, he tried to stop himself from laughing.

_Yeah I knew you would look into that. To be honest you seem to look into everything you're not very good with wiping your net history entirely [Though I don't remember when i put the post it there, thought it'd be cute to leave it.]_  
_It's one of my favourite stories so if you trash talk it i swear to god I will mutilate your nut sack._

"You dick." He laughed to himself, lips still turned up in a rare smile he read on.

It felt as if he'd just learnt something personal about the Dane.  
The air headed Dane who smelt like the sea and acted as wild as the waves had a love for a story that centred around it.  
And despite the new knowledge it was nothing compared to what he didn't know.  
It scared Lars.  
It scared him so fucking much and he didn't know why.

xxx

A couple of weeks later, with no word of the Dane coming back, he'd broken into the liquor cabinet and was browsing through the collection of CD's that was wedged between the 'C' and 'D' authors (wow Mathias must have felt like a fucking genius) Lars pulled out something from the F's and slipped it in the stereo careless of what it might have been. The thrumming of a lush beat filled the penthouse and Lars couldn't even hear his own laughter over the music as it grew louder. Holding a bottle of Jaeger to his lips he moved to the sound of the music, beatlessly and lacking much flow he simply did what his limbs wanted in between long drags at the bottle of alcohol and eventually the joint that ended up between his fingers.

Alice would be so proud of him right now.

He closed his eyes and smiled to himself, acting as if the music were controlling him, telling him how to move, when to drink, when to breath, what to think.

When his eyelids slithered back for him to relight the end of his joint he caught sight of his phone vibrating across the coffee table and looking down at his joint with small frown he snuffed it back out, shoved it in his pockets and moved back inside to pick it up, during down the music considerably he picked up and dropped against the couch worming his way around until his feet were in the air and his head balanced against the ground. "Ja?"

"You bloody dick wad stop toking up and open the fucking door."

"Yes...uh...Kirkland." Mouthing fuck to himself he hung up and dumped the phone back on the table before heaving himself up, staggering over the blood flowing back in the right direction and went to meet the short Brit he'd had the absolute pleasure of being sort-of-not-really friends with for the past few years of his unfortunately life, Arthur fucking Kirkland with a scowl that could make children shit themselves and a glare that was accompanied by his eyebrows in all their bushy glory. Staring down blankly at the Englishman he gestured for him to go inside.

"Gee I couldn't tell what gave away I was right, was it the fact your eyes are redder than a baboons arse and glassy enough I could see my own reflection or was it the fact you left your fucking bong on the table." The shorter male rolled his eyes. "Very classy Lars, I see you've been cracking into the alcohol as well. Brilliant. I hope you're going to share that or so help me,"

"You're in a lovely mood this evening aren't you?"

Now when he said he didn't have friends he didn't really think of mentioning the kinda of but yeah okay definitely really important international trader he'd grown up with and spent most of his childhood either a) getting into scraps with this little Spanish kid who kept hitting on his sister b) Looking after rabbits (shut it) or c) spending his days throwing rocks at the back of Arthur Kirkland's head until he paid attention enough for them to swap supplies and become friends.

And as that got older it turned into lets-get-wasted-and-give-each-other-head  
Well that was until the Frenchmen who lived next door to Arthur when he was younger ended up in the same college as him and the American transfer student fell head over heels and the two ended up playing tug of war with him leaving Lars to his one night stands and his best friends lefty and righty and the one brief relationship with the American boy's brother that lasted a few months but ended as the drop of a hat.

He wasn't bitter about it surprisingly enough.

"I'm absolutely fantastic my little Dutch friend. I just thought we needed a little catch up." The blonde looked around approvingly before making himself at home on one of the couches. "Did you get a pay rise or something? Jesus Christ this place doesn't suit you at all, it's too..." He waved his hands around as he tried to find a word. "Fancy. Extravagant. _Classy._"

"I'm not lit... how did you find out where I was staying?" Lars scratched the back of his head awkwardly before moving to take the seat across from him.

"Bumped into Alice." Thick eyebrows rose to his hairline. "_Staying?_"

"I don't recall saying it was _my_ place."

"Ah so who are you with? Got a partner you haven't told me about?"

"Nee. Long story actually."

And so after sharing the half empty bottle of Jaeger with the Brit they mulled over what they'd missed out on, it turns out the American student went back to New York and left Arthur to spend the rest of his time travelling with Francis when they weren't working. Arthur was in love with the fine arts, rich history, culture, music and wine despite his messy appearance and the crude way at which he spoke and he talked with a sparkle in his eyes of his travels that dimmed down as soon as they moved onto the topic of work to which by the time it happened his eyes were shooting around the room and his words coming slowly from the alcohol. Lars briefly thought him and Mathias would make great friends.

"We had a few people...kill themselves in the past few months...under the pressure..." He slurred, lips pulled down and eyes travelling down with the curve of his mouth. "The other company they...they've been doing insanely well we can't compete with that...world class traders they are but...I can't help but think they have somebody on the inside."

"Huh?"

"I mean none of them were particularly looking strung out in fact they looked like they were doing bloody good." He ran a hand through his hair, sinking back in his chair he sighed and stared down at Lars from the length of his nose. "But what do I know eh? I never really talked to them."

"You never really talk to anybody."

"Good thing that." The Englishman sighed as he tipped his head back and stretched his legs out in front of him. "So Mathias. I have a feeling I've 'eard that name before..."

"Mathias Køhler?"

He stood up suddenly, already dark green eyes turning impossibly darker and any trace of humour drained from his face as if somebody had pulled a plug. Cracking his neck on his shoulders and slipping his feet back into his shoes. "Well I may as well be off, it was good to see you again."

_What the fuck is that all about. _"Uh...yeah. Is it safe for you to drive..."

"Me? Drive at night? Don't be ridiculous I'll call a cab." The Brit, glassy eyed and smiling a little too forcefully than usual put his hand on Lars' shoulder. "Mate from what you've told me you know sweet fuck all about this Mathias guy, well personal anyway...you already saw 'im naked, get to know 'im and tell me if you end up ripping each other's clothes off or something."

"Oooooooookay time for you to go home!" Nervous laughter erupted from the Dutchman and he pushed the small blonde out the door. "Wow yeah amazing to see you too don't get hit by a truck!"

And slamming the door he sunk to the ground with his head in between his legs and groaned. Exhausted physically and mentally he fell asleep against the door and was thankful for the comfort of the dreaming world.

xxx

He sat slumped against the dining table in his sister's home, lazily picking his fork through his desert as he tried to ignore the tendrils of anxiety in his stomach. His flatmate hadn't been home in over a month and he missed the unabashed laughter and the impromptu reasons to celebrate with a bottle of wine, he was undoubtedly working his ass off from how much word he hadn't received but still, it made him wriggle uncomfortably and set him on edge for days to the point that when he wasn't even returning his calls let alone answering them Alice had taken it upon to pull him out of the house and into her own. She was situated across from him, crimson lips turned down in a frown that he could see from the corner of his eyes and sighing heavily he sat up and continued on with his meal.

"What'd got you depressed?" She finally said and he winced at her tone. Motherly and sharp, the green of her eyes burning into him. There was an urgency to the way she spoke, looking at her phone every few minutes as if she were waiting for somebody. Or checking the time. "I don't have all night to try and pry it out of you."

"Mathias hasn't been back in a while."

"Oh?"

"Hm."

"Is that all?"

"Just worried."

"Lying has never been your strong point."

"Subtly has never been yours."

She huffed and stood, taking both their plates with her. Staying in front of him she leaned down until they were eye level and jabbed a finger into his chest.

"You're going to tell me some day if you like it or not."

"I'm going to go before you castrate me."

"Good decision."

He'd slipped out when she turned her back to go to the kitchen.

xxx

Mathias came home 3 days later with deep red lipstick branding his neck and the corner of his mouth and reeking of woman's perfume that was all too familiar to Lars for him to simply ignore. Mathias gave the other a confused look before ditching his coat and shoes at the door he turned to walk past the stunned and furious Dutchman who noted how his suit was rumpled, shirt hanging over the band of his trousers and buttons in the wrong holes. Unsure of why he acted the way he did, all he felt was a flare of an unexpected emotion roaring through his body that had him grabbing his counterpart's arm and yanking him close, with mouth at his ear he scowled and growled. The nauseating wave of possessive behaviour took it's claim on him, he was aware he had no right but still...It didn't stop him.

"I can smell her on you."

He caught a glimpse of smile 12 - amused and snarky - gracing his lips as he ripped his arm out of Lars' grip and went straight to his room. That was not the smile he had been anticipating for weeks to see again.

"Alice is her own woman, she can do what she likes. Don't worry." He stopped, back still turned and he could imagine the smirk that would no doubt be leaving the Dane's teeth bare and his eyes glinting with mirth. "I'll sleep with somebody different next time so I don't step into awkward grounds with you yeah?" He called over his shoulder, and indeed that unfair grin was there, turned up at one side, eyes lidded a single eyebrow arched up. "Or is it that you're jealous, Peeters?"

He stared down at his hands in shock. Acting out of hand wasn't a regular occurrence.

And it was over Mathias of all people.

He would deny the chantings at the back of his head that tried to tell him why, denied them of all their taunting and pushed them as far back as he could along with the memories of his parents and the guilty pleasures he'd taken himself to sleep with, with the thoughts of the very man who just had him break his barrier of control and composure. Straightening himself up he glared down the hall at the blonde and opted for the safer option as his pride got the best of him.

"Nee. Don't touch her again." Out of curiosity to the slight drop in Mathias' shoulders he tipped his head to the side. "Why do you want me to be?"

"Of course not. What would I get out of you being jealous?" He laughed and closed his bedroom door as he entered his room.

Yeah.  
Yeah he was.

xxx

So there he was sweating profusely as he looked at the almost but not quite over flowing rubbish bin and held a cartoon of milk in one hand. So being as clever and careful as he was he balanced it on top of an empty sandwich box and backed up slowly making sure it wouldn't fall off.

And happened to walked straight into the Dane who was staring down at his semi crouching form with an eyebrow raised and his arms crossed. "Take it out."

"Nee."

"I'll screw your sister on your bed if you d-"

"Did I just hear the door?" Lars interjected quickly and straightening up from his position he sprinted to answer whoever was buzzing the bell and left the Dane cursing and laughing behind him.

To be honest he hadn't been more terrified in his life when he came face to face with a blonde who was taller than him, but not by much, and had a glare behind his thin framed glasses that would probably have people lose control of their bowels on the spot. Even the sharply cut suit nearly had Lars crossing his legs in hope he wouldn't end up literally losing his shit. And for once in his life he was able to understand why people were so hesitant to approach him  
_When you look almost blank faced but ready to kill somebody it's intimidating as fuck apparently._ And to be honest whoever this guy was wouldn't have mde him feel so uneasy but...

It's just that he was built like the fucking Hulk.

And when he opened his mouth to speak it just went straight over the Dutchman's head, whatever he was saying was not a language that translated well in his head and trying to resist the urge to let his mouth hang open dumbly he raised an eyebrow. The very Scandinavian looking and sounding male sighed and started trying to mimic what he was trying to say with his hands. When he hand his hands up to about his eyebrows, the same height of the Dutchman, Lars mouthed 'oh' and walked back inside, a finger held up to request a moment.

"Okay so I don't know if you know anybody who looks like a human hulk but there's one out there and he's definitely not saying anything in any language I understand but I'm guessing he's for you."

Mathias's foot was stuck in the bin trying to squash down the rubbish that Lars refused to put out and he frowned. "Oh that's Berwald. He can speak German surprisingly enough even if it is a little unintelligible. Let him in."

And so he did. Glowering a little at the taller male he gestured for him to come in, growling under his breath as he moved past him with the smell of wood and mint following along behind him. As soon as he'd pointed in the direction where the Dane was and with German coming out as a growl on his tongue to tell the other what he was doing he slipped out behind him after grabbing his coat.

He was out for nearly half the day before he came back home tried and drained from marking paper after paper in a cafe that kicked him out as soon as he stopped buying mug after mug of coffee and hung his jacket on the hooks beside the door before going into the kitchen, the soft sound of music an indication the other was around. Lars walked around trying to find the Dane but however was stopped short when he came across the sight of said Dane straddling the blonde male who made his appearance earlier in the day and they were whispering backwards and forwards between each other.

Naked.

It should have come as a surprise to find out that Mathias seemed to be pretty fluid with his sexuality but it was however not, and the Dutchman stood frozen when Mathias's head tipped back in a silent moan and the other man's hand roamed over his chest. His hands lingering at the Dane's necks for a moment as if contemplating to squeeze down before curling at the back of his neck and forcing his head to tip down to crush their lips together. The man's name was on Mathias's tongue as he bounced on his lap and just before it was to be audible Lars moved as quickly and as silently as he could to his bedroom to sit on the edge of his mattress with his head in his hands and his door shut to block out any noise yet still he could hear his flatmate's moans in his ears.

He really did not need this.

He sure as fuck did not need this right now.

Lars heard mumbling from the other side of the door and a thump of somebody being slammed into a wall, a grunt from a voice deeper than Mathias's accompanied a light laugh and he heard them migrate from their spot to what he imagined to be the end of the hall if the slamming door was anything. Rolling over and hiding his face under his pillow he muttered to himself and tried to forcefully induce a coma.

He managed to get a couple of hours sleep until the mumbling from the other two grew too loud as they made their way back down the hall. Mathias no doubt showing this 'Berwald' out (fingers crossed) and rolling onto his back, pillow thrown to the side Lars gave up on all hope of sleep and stared at the ceiling until the front door was closed again and soft padding of feet directed right back to the bedroom.

At least Mathias kept to his promise of keeping out of his sister's pants.


	3. til morning comes let's tessellate

ah thank you so much for all the sweet reviews it really gave a confidence boost  
anyway hmm it's weird I've already figured out part of the ending but the middle of it I'm still struggling to write, how queer I just hope it all flows together nicely enough to appease you amazing readers!  
Don't forget to check out the link in chapter 2 for the mix that I'm using as an inspiration to this  
hope to read more of your thoughts on this later!

**Tessellate by ALT-J**

* * *

Mathias was back for two months before his next job and those two months were bliss once Lars got over the awkwardness for seeing the Dane in such a compromised position. After he'd scrubbed down the couch thoroughly thrice over when the other was out he was able to it back on it and forget the incident entirely. Upon falling asleep on the cream leather he'd woken up to a warm weight at the end of the couch several times, the blonde all limbs and quiet snores as he draped himself over the arm of the couch and had his legs tangled with the Dutchman's. Lars would prop himself up on his end, sleepily and bleary eyed until he was able to accept it as reality before falling back asleep with a smile on his face. He always woke up again with the heat that was similar to the burn of the sun gone and the Dane going about doing his own thing as if he'd never been asleep.

That continued on every time he fell asleep and he found himself purposefully taking naps in hopes of waking up to the warmth of the other male as a comfort. After a few dozen times it had moved from Mathias simply claiming the end of the couch to actually wrapping his arms around the Dutchman's waist with his cheek pressed against his stomach and it was silly really, how his ears tinged red when he found the male cuddling close in his sleep. Eventually he allowed himself the pleasure of playing with the odd strands of his hair some of the natural hight lights a brilliant golden and some so pale they appeared white. And he would watch him sleep from is resting place on his torso, a hand curled at the side of the Dane's face and for once he was actually able to look at him up close without looking too...creepy... Lars watched the rise and fall of Mathias' chest, his suit jacket draped across himself like blanket and it made him look almost childlike, the crinkles from the corners of his eyes gone, the odd stress lines scrubbed away from his forehead with the notion of rest.

He bent his toes until they cracked, noting how their legs were tangled together, one of Mathias' thighs hitched onto Lars' shin and the other curled under it as if to keep him close. He wondered if it was an unconscious thing. Lars brushed his knuckles against the side of his face, thumb pressed in a feather like touch against the bow of his thin lips until he took to playing with the other's hair again. Tattoos hid acne scarring and took away attention from another scar that went right along the top of his nose, his shirt was replaced for something that looked to big for him and Lars suspected it belonged to the man he'd seen the other with weeks ago, but he was thankful for it. Regretfully. It slipped down his shoulder, the freckles that covered his face extended down the length of his neck and sprinkled the tops of his shoulders that despite how calm he looked in sleeping remained tightly knit and tense, discomfort perhaps from the sleep that he always looked as if he needed despite the enthusiastic manner he carried himself with. He was so different when he was asleep, innocent and gorgeous as opposed to the ruthless teaser and mindless flirt he was when awake.

When his lashes fluttered open in a way that would have had Lars mocking him in an instant, he instead, froze solid and stared back into the pools of his eyes that carried an underlying flash of fear. Swallowing thickly he put a hand on the small of the Dane's back and closed his eyes again in mock sleep until Mathias' breathing regulated from quick panting and back to the snoring he'd grown so accustomed to.

He wasn't expecting the Dane to still be lying beside him, however untangled from him and lying with his back towards Lars, almost hanging off the edge of the couch. Smiling to himself he slipped off carefully and lay the other down without so much as a protest from Mathias would huddles closer to the patch of warmth that had been where Lars lay. Pulling a blanket out of the linen cupboard he threw it over the blonde and took to reversing the roles and continued to sloth a bit and sleep for a little longer.

He was already dreading the day the other would leave for work again.

xxx

It was dark when he woke up, the curtains still open and his bedroom door not too much better. Rubbing his eyes he yawned and sat up, pain in his stomach telling him to get something to eat. He didn't get very far when he saw a figure sitting cross legged on the end of his bed with a book and torch in hand and a package wrapped in gold wrapping paper with a little black bow around it that was suspiciously in the shape of an instrument. When Mathias noticed the other was up he clicked off his light and grinned, teeth white, canines bare and those fucking ridiculously blue eyes practically glowing in the dark.

"Alice told me you like to play guitar. Why'd you sell yours?" Mathias finally said, fingers folding the corner of his page over.

"I...I uh...Needed the money." Lars ran a hand through his hair, unsure of where exactly he should be looking.

"hmmm." The Dane hopped up from the bed and patted the package. "Come into my room and play for me. I just need to go get dinner"

"I..."

"No buts no nothing come on we hardly ever hang out." The Dane leant back and cracked his back before floating out leaving Lars staring at his back in raw shock. "I need something new to listen to anyway."

He pulled the sheets away from himself, kicking his legs to get free before he carefully, so carefully unwrapped the guitar from it's confines and he ran his hands over the vanished wood, plucked a few of the taut strings and took the time to tune it to his liking. It was kind, the gift from the Dane who he took as selfish and a little self centred at times but yet here he was with a fucking guitar on his bed and all Mathias asked for in return was that he play. Naturally he would. He changed into something a little loose fitting and took it in hand, cradling it as if it were a child and made his way to the other's room, following the trail of Indian food that was no doubt their dinner for the night.

It was worth it for the smile that stretched both of the Dane's cheeks, the Dane who picked at his food with his fork and patted the spot in front of him that Lars took to sitting. His nerves tingled unpleasantly and chased away any sign of sleep with how nervous he was. Stupid to be nervous really but he hadn't touched an guitar in a while.

"Who taught you?"

"I taught myself though...I improved when Antonio chose to taught me ah he was from Spain I think." He strummed down and chuckled bitterly. "Hated him with a passion and it was mutual but we still managed to do some things together without killing each other."

Mathias shoved a forkful of rice into his mouth and nodded for the other to go on, swallowing down his nerves he experimentally began to play to try and get his fingers re-familiarised with the keys and then without much warning on his own behalf he really started playing. He'd forgotten how much he missed it, night after night of sitting on bare floors playing non stop until his fingers would almost bleed and he was too high off the music to really care too much and the pattern began to set itself back in the back of his head, and his eyes closed at the notes spoke to him in poetry and left a fine taste in his mouth, rich sweet and nostalgic. The other male lay back on the bed and quietly sang along to the tune, Lars taken aback by how he knew it, smiled tightly and allowed himself to lose himself to the rich sound of the Dane's voice and the melody his fingers created.

He played sad songs and he played happy ones but his fingers smoothly switched the tune without too much of a disturbance when they each ended. The atmosphere that settled over them was strangely familiar, close to deja vu but not. Lars felt as if he'd met the other outside of the kitchen in his sister's home where they'd apparently exchanged glances and names. It was barely a confrontation he remembered but he accepted it. He felt as if the other were somebody who'd sat at the back of his class with his headphones pulled up over his head and his body sitting low in his chair and had disappeared the next day after he'd noticed him. He might have been that boy and he might not have. Something told him not to try and make any comparisons.

Playing music and strumming the strings became mechanical and he was able to be lost to his own thoughts and wonderings about the man in front of him who tapped his fingers along with the beat on his own thigh and hummed under the chords. There was something about him, old and young, like somebody he'd known forever and somebody who was simply a man who passed him on the street. And they spoke over the music on occasion as they had in the lounge months ago. They spoke about religion and fanatics and where they stood in life, work, love, friendships and hardships and it was fitting. Mathias said he had some beliefs but they didn't discuss them. Rather he spoke in the bitter words of his disgust in the injustices in the word. He thought strongly about the way woman were treated, in the way the people who took advantage of the people around them in vile ways were not punished well enough and how he dreamt once when he was younger that he wanted to be the change he wanted to see in the world. Lars ended up speaking about things he never really thought he'd thought about, the wonders of deep space and the secrets that the depths of the sea contained in the deepest parts of the dark, how he couldn't fathom the way breaths would simply disappear with the air and Mathias had laughed and said he'd wish to catch them between his fingertips as a precious memory, evidence of something being real and something that existed like he did with the photos that decorated his bedroom walls. Like he did when he held his camera in his hands and raised it to his eye to catch a photo of the Dutchman who wasn't expecting the flash.

Like the Dutchman who wasn't expecting to find himself sitting on the bed of the blonde he knew but didn't simultaneously. Like Lars who wasn't expecting the easy going man who he suspected to be worse than he was discussing the universe and the meaning of it so easily. If he were any different he would be trying to psychoanalyse Mathias as he spoke to understand more about him and read between the lines. But he would not. He would use him as an example in his classes of somebody who was hard to understand when he seemed so transparent but was truly translucent, you could see the surface but it would refract and show you something you weren't looking for in the first place. And when they lapsed back into quiet he tried to figure out himself when he found the other so interesting, and most of all...

...when he started to fall in love.

He didn't believe in love at first sight though the signs and screaming signals were pointing to it. He simply tried to convince himself it was the charm that drew him in and not how he wanted to dive into the depths of those eyes and open the windows and doors to Mathias' soul through them. It was hideous how his inner poet told him the truth that he was denying once, twice, and thrice over. However unable to make it shut up he let it run freely. When he let his eyes slither open just a fraction he found the other infinite at it lowered himself down to finite, the admiration for a man with such confidence and such skill at hiding how and who and what he was with all his finest details was peculiar.

The food was forgotten until it went cold while Lars went through song after song, some the Dane knew and some he didn't but the whole time he remained relaxed against his sheets, smiling sweetly while the music continued. Lars would have played until his hands were numb and aching but the Dane sat up and put his hand on his. Opening his eyes, a little disorientated from being under the spell he created for so long he stared back and tried to fight the aching need to close the small distance between them. Irrational.

Rather he turned to put the instrument down and took up eating to distract his mouth and Mathias sighed heavily in what Lars was hoping to be disappointment as he chose to follow suit.

"I want to take you somewhere." Mathias finally said, smiling around a mouthful of food as the words pushed past it. "I don't know how much you'll like it though. It's a bit...ruined to be honest but it's nice."

"Ruined but nice?" _Sounds like a date._

"Abandoned and probably my favourite place to go when I'm feeling a little contained. I haven't really been there with somebody before but hey if you don't like it when can come back."

"Sounds good." Lars murmured and continued eating. It was hardly late only a little past 8 they could do it. "We'll finish this and go out then."

Mathias smiled with those thin, pale lips towards him and the continued to talk for a while longer, the conversation more teasing than soul searching and it was refreshing and strange the way the Dane was so quick to change the mood to his will. And he would laugh when the Dane did and it was obvious to Lars that he was being too unlike himself to pass it off as just feeling good but the other was so oblivious to it that it wasn't questioned. He was thankful that the sudden love that sparked from ember of a force and the uncontrollable snickering as the Dane gossiped went over the blonde's head.

He'd heard some of the things the other spoke about as people in his classed joked about the things Mathias Køhler, a teenager's wet dream as some of them had described, had gotten involved in at all of the parties and all of the accidental meetings he'd been dragged into and unintentionally wrecked havoc in. When he'd been asked if it were true that he were close to him, from the people that had seen them together on the odd occasion as they ran errands and restocked the kitchen, he'd nodded and kept a poker face as he explained that he lived with him. The news had spread quickly and the Dutchman was seen as some sort of on campus celebrity for so much as talking to the man let alone being his flatmate. But some of the things they'd said made him irritated as they undermined him as a Casanova, a superficial and materialistic idol when the Dane who spoke so deeply about issues and could make anything comfortable with a twist of words was so much more than what they bought him for, what they thought him for. And so much more than the worth they stuck onto the crown of his head, a throned crown of lies, rumours and tainted with the golden thread of the people who thought highly of him. He was more than the convenient lay they'd said he was to the rich and famous, Lars had seen the way he was after he'd given people the satisfaction of saying they'd slept with him, he's walk around his face blank and wouldn't say a word until he worked off the shame and repeated the pattern. Mathias clearly wasn't happy with what he was doing and Lars was starting to understand that the more he spent time around the blonde.

He would have said that if it wouldn't have tip toed into uneven ground and he kept quiet as they finished off their meal and eventually Mathias had slipped away to change out of his rumpled suit. Lars looked at himself in the full body mirror that sat propped up against one of the walls and deemed himself acceptable as he waited for the other to come back and took interest in the pictures on the walls as he had only once before, a room with a single mattress and odds and ends scattered along a thin strip of flooring, a boy who looked no older that 16 with his head pressed against a shoulder that was indefinitely the Dane's, of a girl with silver white hair and blazing eyes who was staring blankly at the camera or the man behind it.

Lars pulled his attention away when he heard the door click back open and Mathias slip through and holy mother of jesus he looked...

"Close your mouth you look like you're trying to catch flies."

...Like that boy he'd stupidly compared him to and simply divine in an jersey that looked too big and jeans that were too tight for Lars' mental state to compute with. A simple black beanie smoothed down the back of his hair and a pair of glasses Lars wasn't even aware he needed perched at the end of his nose. Shaking his head he laughed and stood up, the plates coming with him as he drifted out the door.

"Lets go."

xxx

"Come on!"

"I..."

"Shut up and follow me." When he didn't move Mathias grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him through the sketchier parts of the town they'd driven to for god knows how long to get to. He still felt the false sense of warmth from the Dane's chest against his back and his arms still tingled from where he'd been holding onto his waist as he sat on the back of the motorcycle. He thought himself as Alice being lead through wonderland by the mad hatter.

Instead he was Lars being dragged through a part of the state that he'd never thought to ever exist in such a polished country by an over excited Mathias who would probably be making an ass of himself if Lars hadn't chosen to actually follow him. And his hair was standing on end as the damp smell of something akin to decay and mildew met his nose and had him gritting his teeth from telling the other to leave him outside.

They slipped through a broken window, shard over glass sticking out of the frame and the floorboards groaned worryingly under their feet as they made their way through the deserted building.

"Is this a-"

"I thought we'd go to somewhere that's confining that our little haven or whatever and even if it doesn't have the affect I was going for then too bad because you and I are now here and this is definitely not legal and we're going to have so- don't give me that face look you agreed to it."

"Are we even in Hesse?"

"Not too sure to be honest."

"Are you fucking serious."

"Mhm so boo hoo cry me a river. We'll be back before you know it." Mathias sighed happily and stretched his arms back over his head. "There might be squatters though so be careful. Anywhore lets get going."

"I hate you. I hate you so much this is going to get us thrown in jail and-"

"-I'll be able to bail us out in a second flat. SO. Let me show you around a little."

As they walked the entirely deserted building, Mathias with his camera in his hand and held up a lot of the time they roamed Lars tried to hold back his frustration and tried to enjoy the little personal piece of the Dane he was being shown. He couldn't do it. It was dangerous and entirely out of his comfort zone and probably that's why the other was so drawn to it but he couldn't be fucked trying to put that into Mathias' personality as he edged around something that looked like a dead rat. Mathias took claim on the remnants of a frail looking chair and kicked his feet up on an equally worn down wooden table completely ignorant to the way it protested under his weight, leaning his head back against the splitting support of the seat he lit himself a cigarette.

"You know I heard you had the tendency to be a little rebellious, self destructive and a massive inconsiderate asshole but I didn't think it was to this level."

"A lot of people say a lot of things about me but do I give a fuck." He paused as if to ask himself and laughed loudly, the sound echoing through the halls. "Nope."

"I know I hear a lot of it in my classroom."

"Oh! I feel special do ya tell 'em how amazing I am?"

"I tell them how I want to boot you in the head half the time and that you need a baby sitter."

"Hurts right here Peeters." He held his hand over his heart.

He said nothing. Rolling his eyes he entertained the notion of leaving the Dane stranded and taking the bike but that would entail him to wrestle the other for the keys so he pushed that riiiiiiiight back and sat on a patch of floor left untouched by something other than dust. Never did he ever think he'd end up a) moving in with a millionaire who was younger than him b) agree to get on a fucking motorbike c) climb through a window into an abandoned _something_ that was sure to be riddled with every disease under the sun but alas he digressed as soon as he made eye contact with Mathias who was looking down at him curiously. He seemed to be like city lights, powerful and always present somewhere in the Dutchman's head and forever shining against a blank black canvas that made Lars' fingers itch to draw him, or paint him, or write out everything about him that infuriated and engaged Lars. To paint the moon and the stars and space that made the blonde appear like a constant body of vastness and the potential for extraordinary power and held an element of mystery that frustrated Lars to no end.

Despite the fact he acted like the sun he would always be the image of the ocean to Lars, the human embodiment and personification. Wild, unpredictable, beautiful and just like the endless space they both talked of being scared of  
utterly unknown to the world.  
And yet the Dutchman felt in the musty room, in the crumbling building as if he knew him better than Mathias knew himself.

He needed to stop writing a fucking novel in his head about how philosophical he got over Mathias. Bad habit. Ew no. But he wouldn't be able to stop. Not when somebody with eyes so god damn clear it should be illegal had their lids half mast and head tilted curiously and oh god no Lars begged silently for him to never ever wet his lips again in front of him because such a simple gesture shouldn't have been so erotic. Coughing the Dutchman turned away and brought his knees up to his chin and wrapped his arms around them.

"What compelled you to take a liking to this place?'

"For one I'm not a germaphobe like you seem to be." Mathias let his arms dangle at the edges of the bed and shrugged. "I've kind of always been used to shit holes after I went through the whole teenager angst thing, this is really gross I know and I'm sorry for dragging you here but it's better when there's company."

A laugh rumbled at the back of Lars throat and he shook his head. "It's got a charm to it once you really start to appreciate it."

He spoke the truth, despite the way it was rotting from the inside out and was taking it's contents down with it, it was sort of beautiful the way nature had started to take it's claim back on the place, moss scattering bricks that had long since fallen away that brought through the night breeze and vines along with it that climbed the high rising ceilings. A shame how it turned out against the test of time when it would have been incredible to see in it's glory. Lars seemed to have seen the right thing as Mathias nodded along with him, a warm smile sent in his direction before the blonde set to rifling through his back for a pack of candles. A stack of bloated books were sat beside the Dane's foot and a chipped glass along side them and as soon as the dozen or so candles were finally lit and sitting in the centre of the wood did Lars get enough light to be able to look around and taken in the room.

They were in a study.

Bookcases that looked as if they went on forever still held books, some in tatters others showing their age and if it weren't quite so ominous and setting a chill in the Dutchman's stomach he would have gotten up to pick up what remained on the shelves. The longing must have showed on his face as Mathias hummed sadly.

"They're beautiful right? I managed to grab some of the ones that weren't so ruined." He sat forward with his elbows on his knees, the candles flickering light across his face and glinting across the surface of his glasses that slid down his nose. "Most of them are in Latin though, others in something Baltic so I saw no point in getting those the rest are just...water damaged I guess."

"Baltic?"

"Hmm. I imagine this was built around the time the Prussian empire was still up and running." Mathias shrugged again and as Lars stood he could still feel the other's stare on him when he walked towards the literature and dragged his fingers along the spines he could. "But who knows eh? Well a historian maybe but I don't really feel like pulling people over here too soon."

Mold covered the tops of some of the pages that had been affected by expose to nature and rain water, the ones that did not he picked out carefully and flicked through the pages carefully. Most weren't in a language he could understand, others that he may have been able to were too faded for him to make out in the light.

"Can I borrow one of the ones you've got when we get back?"

"Of course. Most of them are diaries I think or you know fairy tales."

It was so quiet in that little secluded building that struggled against the forces of nature. Lars continued to rifle through the shelves, shuffling and thumps as books were pulled out some falling apart and others just clinging on for survival. Homely despite it's ruined appearance, protected despite how it was slowly shedding it's shield of bricks and shattering glass as it weakened. The air was stale and moist with the scent of organic matter that grew freely and the faintest smell of cinnamon wax joined it. Lars kept some of the books under his arms, he could get them translated at the university or struggle to read the faint writing when the morning came.

"I like you." He was unable to bite the words back before they came and quickly taking to rifling through for more salvageable books he felt the warmth of the other's beam against the back of his heated neck.

"I like you too Lars. You know you're my best friend right?" Mathias said suddenly from behind him, his chin propping up on the Dutchman's shoulder. "You treat me like a person instead of an object thanks by the way."

"Are we really having male bonding time here."

"Don't ruin it Lars I'm telling you something important." The blonde chuckled, the back of his hand curling around to brush along Lars' cheek and caused him to lock still in place. "You haven't shaved."

"It's a weekend give me a break."

"Breaks, breaks, breaks we never truly get them and if you got one you wouldn't be living with me would you?" Much to Lars regret the warmth of the other's body left him as he pulled away and took to going back through his bag. "You don't need them really or else you would have refused to have come out with me."

"You're pretty convincing when you want to be." Lars moved back to take a spot on the floor, his back pressed against the softened wood of the table and Mathias pressed both his feet against the Dutchman's thigh, prodding into him with the tips of his toes.

"I didn't have to convince you into coming with me." An apple practically appeared in the Dane's hand and he took a bite, grinning around the fruit. "You would have come with me anyway."

"What makes you so sure?"

That had the other quiet for a few minutes, his lips pursed as he thought and his laughter soon started to cut through the quiet.

"Because I know you better than you think Mr Peeters."

Lars smiled and started to sort through what he'd taken, from what appeared to be medical documents to personal writing, and read what he could under the light of the candles until they burnt out and his counterpart had nothing else to say other than express his inner most thoughts and feelings that only added to the serenity. Needless to say Lars admired and appreciated how Mathias never engaged in small talk, launching straight into topics that wouldn't require answers or fuels to his sentences as he spoke about things that he seemed to have been itching to speak about to somebody who would actually listen to his silken voice.

He craved attention and somebody to just talk at or to without any strings attached and Lars felt a little slither of pride to be able to say he was somebody Mathias trusted enough to be able to do so until the sky started to lighten and they both grew tired. Mathias suggested going back and the Dutchman reluctantly agreed, mixed feelings about stayed and about going but under all logical reasoning it was time to go _home_.

But he wondered, when exactly did he grow so comfortable as to smile around Mathias?

xxx

He grinned into the dip between Mathias' shoulder blades as they drove off and the sun started to rise above them, the birds starting their morning calls and the wind picking up to rustle the leaves and branches surrounding them.  
If he were as crazy in love as he felt he were,  
then the object of his affections was purely bat shit insane.


	4. super rich kids

sorry this took too long to post (food poisoning hit me haaard) then again i dont think there is any set time i post a new chapter  
anyway i think i have a theme with making my favoruite characters go through emotional pain, addictions and stuff like that so yeah omg im so sorry

**Diamonds from Sierra Leone - Kanye West**

* * *

Glasses overflowed with Diamonds and pink champagne, and too many bottles of wine that had unpronounceable names, the room was brimming with people the rich, the beautiful and the powerful laughing and getting themselves drunk enough to not care about anything. White powder was left on flat surfaces, some noses still dusted with the substance and those were the ones who looked more at peace with the uproar of laughter and constant thrumming of a beat. At every one Mathias had thrown, Alice had wormed her way in and they'd dance together in a way that was hypnotising and the red or silver or gold of her dresses would flash across the brilliant sharpness of the Dane's black suit as they melted around each other as fluid as molten lava. Their smiles as bright as the midday sun and their eyes sparkling with intoxication and a natural high. He could have sworn they were still together until she'd pull off him and men and woman alike would be at Mathias' side and aiding his body to their will. And on the few occasional slices of heaven he'd found himself with his hands clutching onto the back of the other's shirt and his face pressed against his stomach as the other laughed out sweet smoke above him and ground against his cheek. He moved with a fluidity that appeared unreal, his eyes shut as he let the music vibrate in his bones and control how he moved and who he moved with. However he was yet to see the blonde that was usually the centre of attention that night.

He'd turned down the lines of powder that were slowly diminishing in his discomfort for snorting substances for rapture and turned to the tabs of LSD he had left for a rainy day. Time sped up and slowly down, the music would be too loud and the laughter too obnoxious and suddenly it would be silence, Lars felt too cold and too warm and too happy and everybody around around him were nothing but movable statues. Lars felt endless he felt infinite he felt the stars and the planets sing to him and he could feel the rush of blood in his veins. Time distorted and light grew brighter, the dark grew darker, and everything seemed to go on forever. He rode the high of euphoria with appreciation for how he got it out of a simple substance, complicated, simple, too much to think about he needed to share it with Mathias this high this happiness this wonder. This drug. It should have been a sign he'd had too much too quickly, not enough to kill his mentality but enough to have him a state of lost time for seemingly forever, when he thought dark planets lost to the illumination of sun on their cold surfaces cracked through the walls, Titan planets reaching out with jagged mountains and inky black forests. It should have been a warning but it was not, the music of the room was upbeat enough to keep him moving, to keep him laughing and keep him rooted. He finally understood why Mathias had stood on the ledge and mumbled about how easy it would be. How they would end up on the roofs and he would joke about jumping but would not when the wind blew too hard and he would smile as if there was a music in the gusts of air that told him to stay.

He felt like he could fly.

Lars was shocked to see diamonds, seemingly millions of them scattering prisms of light across the table tops as people gambled them, he would have thought they were fake if not for the big dollars that were being slammed down over them. If not for the wealthy men and woman who handled them as if they were nothing but pawns and indeed they were. They treated each other like pawns on top of that, fake friends and forced relationships that were forgotten after bottle after bottle.

He dragged himself down the hall, deserted as the silent request that the rooms were to be left alone were well known to the people flooding every other room was respected, after he'd spent the better half of the evening weaving through the tightly packed crowd. Leaning heavily against the door he knocked and the door pushed open with his fist. Candles that were identical to the ones Mathias had used to light up their surroundings a few days ago in the middle of nowhere were now lit on every single flat or hanging surface, too dark to see around the room properly he flicked on the lights. And it was almost as if somebody flicked the switch on inside him that brought him back to reality away from the throbbing music and the presence of the too heavy question of the universe.

Mathias looked so fragile curled in on himself in the corner of the room protectively, and so damaged like he'd disintegrate at the simplest touch like autumn leaves. Mathias croaked from beneath his arms for whoever it was to get out and when Lars didn't, did he look up and the tense hold to his shoulders practically slipped away. However his eyes were still carrying fear and something else that made the Dutchman look away so he wouldn't be haunted by it afterwards. Crouching down and avoiding eye contact he took the other's balled hands into his own and pulled him in to hug him. Mathias melted against him, a sigh hitting his neck and carefully the Dane manoeuvred to claim Lars' lap and make it easier for them to hold onto each other as Mathias whispered apologises. He wanted so badly to hold him on the couch again if they weren't claimed by groups of drunk foreigners. Not for sex, just to sleep and for him to comfort the crumbling mess on something more comfortable than the floor. He could have perhaps, moved to the bed, but knowing him and his diminishing self restraint.

He'd take advantage.

"Get them out please it's too loud I can't...I fucking can't..." Shivers violently moved Mathias' body, and he almost swallowed his tongue when his shirt was pinched between his thumb and curled index fingers. "Please please please I'm just..."

"Sshhh it's okay I'll get them out." He pressed a kiss to the other's forehead, congratulating himself despite the situation for getting at least that far. "It'll be alright just stay here."

He'd left with a click of the door behind him and very quickly started spreading the word to grab their stuff and get out, red nosed and bleary eyed people protested against it until he was worn out and simply lowered himself to threats to which once Alice heard and he wasn't too sure how or when she ended up at his side started to work. Very quickly they started to flood out the doors, most personal possessions in their hands. Only after everybody had left with his sister's help, some furious and others too drunk to care, he'd managed to coax the other down to the ruined living room, stains on some surfaces that would be bitches to remove and clothes, shoes and bottles scattered across the floor. He lead the other out with careful hands, his fingers barely pressed against the small of his back. He looked down when hands clenched around his own arm and only then did he notice the red dripping from the ends of the blonde's fingers and in between his palm and the Dutchman's forearm was a gritted layer of crushed glass. It seemed all too familiar and unfamiliar all at once.

Unfortunately not everybody had left.

A group of four two of them drunk the other two looking bored with the setting. The freakishly tall man from weeks ago sat with another with pink cheeks leaned against him, mumbling into his shoulder and hand down his pants. Another with a blank stare dragged his fingers around the rim of a glass while the male beside him that looked no older than 17 sat with his eyes wide in anticipation and something else. The boy from the photo. From the scowl that crossed nearly everybody's lips as soon as he walked in he took to accepting he wasn't who they were waiting for, and he matched every single one of their expressions as he dragged the Dane out.

Mathias locked up immediately, backing up and almost about to run back to his room.

"Don't even think about it." The one with the blank eyes said sharply and much to Lars' surprise Mathias listened, jerking as if he'd been shot with the other's words. "Where have you been?"

Mathias opened his mouth to speak but quickly snapped his jaw shut and turned his head down to the ground, brows pulled together. There was no way he was stable enough to have to talk to people nor be questioned. Lars reassuringly put a hand on his shoulder and was just about to take him back to his room when the voice came again.

"You should be out here, you know it's rude to leave your guests."

"Lukas he...he obviously had...an episode just leave him alo-" The younger looking one slurred before he was cut off. Mathias shrinking down on himself even more when the second male joined in. Their accents all sounding so alike and yet so different.

"I thought I told everybody to leave?" Lars cut in and the deadpan stare quickly lit up in flames. "Obviously he's not feeling well enough to converse right now."

"And who are you?"

"His friend."

"Mathias doesn't have friends." Lukas spoke as if Mathias wasn't there. "_He doesn't get sick. He is sick._"

"Get out." The blonde at his side spoke up shakily, his voice cracking on the last word. Looking up he squared his shoulders and gritted his teeth, seething as he repeated himself and the shift of energy set a chill in the Dutchman's bones, the defiant hold to the other's chin and glare in his eyes a show of power. "Get. The. Fuck. Out."

They left without another word.

Lars watched quietly as Mathias pulled away, resigned and shuffled back to his bedroom. Only after he'd cleaned up the worst of the mess did he follow after him with a first aid kit and a towel.

xxx

He took him to the park the next day, finding himself surprised yet again when Mathias chose to dress down. The sun would have burnt them in it's heat in the cloudless sky if it weren't for the breeze and every seemed so clear, the air clean. Kites looked like birds against the stunning blue, people running around and the two of them abandoned biking to walk their bikes to the centre of the grass area.

He wasn't too sure when they started playing a game of chase but he found himself sprinting to catch up with the Dane who was laughing uncontrollably, not a word said apart from the quiet 'yes' when Lars asked if he wanted to get out of the house. His eyes were bright and his smile massive and he squealed when Lars in on him and attempted to drag him down to the grass and with a strength the Dutchman didn't expect of him he tore away until he was a reasonable distance away and span, his heat tipped back to feel the sun on his face. Lars' heart thudded uncomfortably in his chest and he walked over, panting to try and catch his breath just in time to watch Mathias collapse to the ground in a fit of laughter that confused the Dutchman but he was pleased to see the other so happy.

Mathias turned his head to the side, his enthusiasm written across his face and it disappeared for a moment, his laughter died down to a confused chuckle and eventually to silence.

"You alright?" Lars said, sitting cross legged beside him.

"Nothing. Just laughed too much I think. Feel a bit queer...shit yes i totally feel gay-er than usual, I mean strange." The Dane sighed and turned his head back up to the sky, skinny arms and legs stretching out until they popped in his sockets and he relaxed boneless into the grass. "You know that feeling...when blood just rushes through your veins and it's lined with adrenaline and this impeccable and strange twist of lust for victory? It just feels like you're the king of the world...and it's your world to take it's amazing." Mathias smiled to himself and curled his bandaged up arms above his head.

"Is that how you feel now?"

"I feel like fucking Jesus right now." He tapped the end of Lars' nose, causing him to scrunch it up in dissatisfaction. "And you're trying to shrink me."

"It's natural habit sue me."

His laugh was too loud but Lars chose to ignore it, it always was. The Dutchman tried not to lock up when he felt fingers slip alongside his own, a calloused thumb running over the bumps of his knuckles and the other's hands were cold, cold enough that if he didn't twist his hands around to lace their hands together securely to feel the thrum of a heartbeat against his fingertips he could have sworn the other wasn't alive. He must have fallen in love with this man when he had fallen into him and caught sight of that brilliant yet hollow smile that sent a shudder throughout his nervous system and had him unable to refuse the offer to stay with somebody he'd just met. He however couldn't pin point the exact time and day they started to tip toe around each other in and out of them being around each other, the days they were together seeming like the blink of an eye and the months apart eternity. He didn't understand however how desperately he craved the attention from Mathias, how he craved these small moments of ignorant bliss where they would just rest side by side either talking in hushed mutterings or sitting in absolute silence to fully feel the wind on their skin. There was no doubt about how the Dane needed a support, whatever had happened to him left him damaged and fragile and he was using Lars as that crutch and Lars didn't mind, he took pleasure in feeling trusted by somebody with so much potential.

The falsity of stableness in Mathias shattered as soon as the faint sound of his phone vibrated against both of their hips and they sighed in unison. His eyes darkened and his jaw set when his phone was beside his ear, and when he seethed down the line in just another language that barely sounded like a language that Lars was adding to the ever growing list. The expression Mathias wore left Lars feeling scared and maybe almost definitely a bit turned on. Resting his chin on his knees after he pulled himself to sit up he watched families share picnics and people lazily walk through the grounds while the other entirely snapped out of that dreamy state he'd been in moments ago. It was worrying to watch that easy smile twist and disappear into something no less than a memory. As well as the comforting feeling of the Dane's hand in his, everything gone with the whisper of the trees.

"Lets go out for ice cream." Mathias' voice made the quick transition from an alien tongue to one Lars actually understood and he nodded, standing up and trying not to wince at the way his limbs cracked at being in the same position for too long he held out a hand to help the other up. A pleasant warmth was left under his palm once the other had taken it and remained once the touch was gone.

They left without much of another word, the Dutchman keeping his lips firmly closed to silence his complaints and questions about the call and they biked into the deeper reaches of the city until Mathias hissed under his breath and nodded for them to ditch their bikes and continue on by foot. Still no question was uttered even as Lars watched from the corner of his eye as the Dane took the edge of his scarf between his fingers and rubbed the fabric together to keep himself calm. The scarf would go missing sometimes when Mathias went to work, there would be no word of where it went until it would appear hours after the Dane would return home with it still in his hands and he'd be fast asleep against the deck chairs on the balcony and his breath would be no more than a whistle. It was the same thing every time.

It got under Lars' skin how Mathias was acting too normal, too fucking calm and too nonchalant to be normal. A small and recognisable figure dressed head to toe in black save for his silvery blonde head banged into the Dane's arm and he watched as the other simply pulled his arm away and tucked his hands into his pocket. Uncaring if he were obvious or not he fished out a piece of paper from his own coat and scanned over the scrap of note, a scowl present momentarily before he turned it into an excited beam and had to slap a hand over his mouth to smother a squeal of delight. His head turned over his shoulder to where the person had disappeared around a corner and he'd rested his head against the other's shoulder, a smile of contentment turning his lips and his hands buried back in his pockets before they themselves turned a corner of their own and slipped into an offhand shop selling frozen treats.

It was colder than it was outside, small couples and families all enjoying their fair share of food and easily they slipped into German to request their food. Lars continued to watch from the edge of his vision as the other tipped his head back and stared up at the ceiling. In silence or in words whatever left the Dane was in metaphors and soon Lars found his thoughts spiralling into the same manner, nothing as straight forward as it had been unless it was a night he put his mouth to the bong and let words of 'wisdom' pour straight back out. The other was mysterious in his own way but clear as day, patches cleaned up and reformed and other's left to fog over unless he chose to wipe it down himself to let people see through. Lars was starting to wonder if he was the only one who saw these parts of Mathias, he'd seen him loose and drunk and laughing around crowds of people he didn't seem to know but felt comfortable around, he'd seen him intimate with countless others his face a mask of practised pleasure and he'd seen him show his ranking among those who were too close to him. Lars still didn't under understand who the group of men were who came over the night before, or who the boy in his late teens was that appeared on the street or who that 'Lukas' was with his bored eyes and cold words.

Eventually they moved from the counter to the booth's and Mathias curled his feet around the table legs, chin resting in his hands as he picked at his food. Gaze still dreamy until a hum broke through with a gust of air and he turned his attention back to the real word, ice cream being shoved into his mouth as he sat up straighter.

"Do you ever think about how short life is?" The Dane said around a mouthful of coffee ice-cream that Lars had no idea how the fuck he managed to simply bite into it like it wasn't freezing cold. Blinking he bit back a remark about the other eating with his mouth full and shrugged. Again came the strange sentence starters.

"Yeah I guess." Lars sat back, the heels of his feet pressed against the edge of the table and his arms remained draped over his knees as he dug his spoon into his cup of caramel.

"Hmm so what do you think are the most important things to do during our brief time here?"

"Are you trying to 'shrink' me now?" Lars said trying to hide his smile with the little plastic spoon. When the other simply rose an eyebrow expectantly he turned his gaze down the melting treat and shrugged again. It was becoming habit by the looks of thing. "I always think it's about breaking rules to experience things to their full potential, to forgive, not to regret things that once made you feel happy...and accept opportunities as they come. What about you?"

Mathias smiled, his eyes cast down and his lashes cast shadows on the tops of his cheeks in a way that had Lars chewing on the end of his tongue. "To love, to take time to appreciate the feeling of a kiss with somebody who truly cares...those are the best kind they're sweet and passionate all at once...and...to let happiness come through even in the darkest of times."

His views seemed contradictory to the way the he acted when he thought nobody was looking but he swallowed that observation down with another lick at his spoon and nodded. Mathias seemed distance after he was done and went as far in his dreamy state to leave the remainder of his food to melt into a puddle at the bottom of the paper cup.

"And books. Books are the most important thing of all."

"Books...hmm...like a Fairytale?"

He grinned and stood up, brushing his already spotless coat down and gestured for the other to follow suit. On their way out, Lars noted how close the other was standing, their arms brushed together and the slight warmth was enjoyable to say the least. Nowhere near the same as the contact of their hands had felt. He was also able to take in the way there was a slight hop to his step and a laugh rested at the back of his throat at how childish it was but just as he did with most things he kept it back.

"What's got you so happy?" The note from earlier was pressed into his palm, the top of it ripped off. And underneath slopped writing that looked like somebody had smashed down on the keys of their computer was a translation in scribbled hand writing **_P.S Sve & Fin broke up. Tino found out about you and Ber._**

"Do you like him 'Ber' or something?"

"Me? Like Berwald? Fuck off. He's just an old friend that sometimes ends up with his dick in me." Mathias chuckled and took it back from Lars' palm. "I'm just happy karma finally bit him in the ass. Anyway care to celebrate with me? I'm thinking about buying some Champagne that we can enjoy just you and me."

"What are we celebrating." He tried not to get over excited or at least show his enthusiasm at the statement _just you and me._

"The truth in 'What goes around comes back around'"

"I guess you won't tell me what he did to get screwed over?"

Mathias twisted his lips together to hide his smile and he shrugged, legs kicking out in front of him with every step and head tipped back to look at the Dutchman. It would have looked childish and perhaps a little goofy if not for the fact he still managed to make it look attractive.

"He slept with me." And he laughed until his voice grew wheezy and he was doubled over. "Basically if you sleep with me. You're fucked."

"Great pun there."

"Oh it's no pun." The look in Mathias' eyes was dead serious the joking from before chased away by storm clouds and even that smile that still remained was tormenting. "It's the truth. Sleep with me. And anything good that ever happened to you is Psshpt gone, it'll ah what's the word...wane faster than you could imagine."

"Anybody managed to escape such a terrible, terrible fate." Lars said sarcastically, dragging the other back down the street to their bikes.

"...Your sister. Let's hope it runs in the family hm?"

Mathias had gotten on his bike and was halfway down the street, yelling at him to catch up by the time he'd thought of a response.

xxx

Both men were down to their boxer briefs and shirts by the time they'd joined each other in Mathias' room, the pale blue sheets folded over and glass cleared from the floors hours ago. The Dane sat in a spinning office chair, a shining green bottle beside him on the desk and legs curled up under him as he span in the seat while he waited for Lars who, stood for a while in doorway with a bowl of cheese in crackers and gave the other an eye roll of epic proportions before sticking his foot out to stop the other's dizzying spin.

"Are we getting drunk tonight or?" Lars questioned, trying not to worry about how the Dane with bared knuckles had managed to reopen the wounds until they were dripped specks of red down the length of his arm again.

"Don't you have work tomorrow?" _Oblivious._

"Yeah and?"

"Teaching. Takes effort don't it?"

"It's brainless trust me I'll be okay."

Mathias' eyes narrowed but he said no more, instead he hopped up from his seat taking the bottle with him and dragged the Dutchman up with him to the bed. Grinning, his eyes sparkling he held it up and in the other hand the remote to his own sound system.

"To a mix to drown in our dreams come true!" He laughed, flicking on the stereo so the music flooded the room and wrenching the cork off so it hit the opposite wall he bounced on the spot and screamed happily. "THEY CAME TRUE!"

Unsure of what to do Lars joined in awkwardly until laughter bubbled in his own throat and he took the bottle from the other male, drinking what he could from the foam that spilled on the sheets and on their toes. He was surprised at his own ease at joining in on whatever personal joy the other had but seeing how bipolar Mathias was with his highs and lows he took to enjoying what he could and tipped back as much as he could to as least get a false sense of this celebratory feeling Mathias had. He had not smiled, nor had he laughed or spoken to any other the way he had with his proclaimed best friend. His best friend who touched him as if he had a right and talked to him with words that penetrated into his head and did things to Lars that words probably shouldn't.

He loved this feeling of being free with how he felt and how he had always wanted to feel and so when the sweet liquor took it's hold on him he embraced that light airy sensation with all his might and they passed it backwards and forwards until he grew too tired to bounce on the complaining mattress for too much longer and Mathias had collapsed down beside him, cheeks red and chest heaving for air but he looked well...

"I love seeing you laugh you know...Alice told me you never have and I mean if I can get Berwald to laugh and even _Lukas_ I sure as heck could get you too. And now look at ya, you're doing all the things the happy people do on a regular basis."

Truly happy for once.

And he caused it.

"You're a dork Mathias." Lars said warmly, collapsing against the sheets careless for the dampness of alcohol that seeped through his shirt.

"Did you seriously just use that word." Mathias said, looming over him in a way that had hope building in his chest and if he wanted he could just bury his hands in that hair that was softer than it looked and pull him close so their lips would mee...

"Yes I did."

"Really showing your degree there." The Dane rolled his eyes and rolled back onto his side, wrenching that hopefulness with him.

"Really showing your maturity there."

Thin fingers with cracked wounds were slapped onto his chest and he took the wrists similar to that of royalty, a queen if he dear say, and were unfortunately marked with the signs of the worst of days and pressed trails of kisses up to the seeping knuckles which he was sure had been drenched in blood more than they had been water and littering the motion of his lips across rusty tasting skin he cleaned away the bitter taste under the other had fallen asleep at his side and he turned over to kiss the crevice of his lips before slipping away back to his own bedroom on shaking feet.


	5. I'll escape with him

omg im so sorry this is probably the longest any of the chapters will be i really wasn't expecting this to be entirely honest forgive me hhhh  
anyway thank you so much for the kind words and faves it means the world to me and back don't be afraid to drop a comment in if i could improve this in any way or if you have some ideas in what you'd like to see happen UwU

**Amsterdam - Daughter**

* * *

The night before felt like a dream and another couple of months later after waking up to the note pinned the fridge telling him that Mathias had left for a job he forgot to inform Lars he had and a quick thank you it seemed like nothing more than a faint fantasy he'd clung to in the hopes of it being true. He'd gone back to classes as the school year continued, listening in on conversations he was not meant to hear and some he was and joining the stoic German who ran history and the bubbly Italian who was in the art department at lunch times.

He held the mug up to exhausted lips and washed away the nagging need to accept sleep with bitter caffeine. He had another forty minutes before the students started flooding back in looking just as drained as he probably did. Lars crouched over his notebook, effortlessly tuning out the enthusiastic chatted from the brunette male sharing his table as he drew listlessly on the pages waiting for the caffeine to kick in. It took his workmate shaking his arm to get him to come back to the waking world and blinking the rest of his dreams and worries out of his eyes he put his professional face on and looked up at the Italian curiously. "Hm?"

"These are really good Lars!" He said, a face too youthful for his actual age of 27 stretched with a smile that should be illegal to wear that early in the morning. "Ah sorry Herr Peeters. Who is he?"

Confused he turned his eyes back down to the pages covered in half down sketches of a face, the chiselled jaw and heavy eyes, the thin, scarred wrists and surprisingly muscled limbs, the bitten down lips tipped up into a barely there smile and wild windswept hair slowly started to piece together and he coughed to hide his embarrassment, pulling the book back to himself he shrugged.

"A...friend."

Even Ludwig narrowed his eyes at that and oh god he shrank down in his seat at that icy stare his discomfort too obvious for his dignity to handle. The tanned hand of the Italian ended up on his elbow again and the warm smile was back on the elder male's face. He whispered quietly, his thick bouncy accent enough to simply make the Dutchman feel some sort of joy. "There's a room beside my classroom, it's always empty use it before you have to go teach. Si?"

He wished he could show he gratitude in something better than a nod but he slipped out from under the other's arm, belongings going with him as he took up the offer. Lars set his things down once the door was open and immediately got to setting himself up a little spot in record time, his headphones plugged in and his hands sketching to their content as he let himself drift away from the soon to be thunderous sound of footsteps up and down the stairs and the mindless talk of teenagers and adults alike. The Dutchman found love such a strange concept, you meet somebody and start to know them and sooner or later everything about them, their entire existence controls everything about you and around you and everything you do and the thoughts that run through your head and the feelings that keep you up at night and he didn't understand the overbearing need to protect whoever it was he fell in love with, the need to keep them in your life or the knowledge that he'd die for the person. It drove him fucking crazy how one entity could do that. Love the way all his habits and hobbies morphed and molded him into the man he was, the way he styled his hair, the aftershave he used, the way his accent grew thicker in the mornings. And how his face appeared on the cover of more and more magazines. eyes sultry and nearly half naked in some compromising pose that was so fitting to see on him yet so strange how he could look like a normal model, pouting in front of a camera yet...

He wasn't really a 'normal' model. He was too topsy turvy to be anything close to normal.

But every time the Dane left for such long periods of time it seemed like this man who he was in love with was nothing more than legend, something he dreamt about rather than an actual person who he had spent time with and stolen a kiss from in his sleep. Sleep, sleep, sleep he'd hardly slept since he'd left. Lost too must rest missing that extra weight of warmth that would occasionally join him for no reason that was now gone and left him tossing and turning restlessly in his bed and even when a few hours of unconsciousness would come to him they were fitful. The four walls of his bedroom too big for just him and the house a palace containing one when it should have been two. And in his growing discomfort he found himself out on the clear nights counting stars in the sky until his eyes grew heavy. The point of his pencil splintered across the paper and he hefted out an irritated sigh, exasperatedly sighing and resharpening it he let his eyes ghost over the page of his smile, his eyes, his scarred yet beautiful wrists, the tattoo of wings he'd only seen a glimpse of when the blonde was on his way to the bathroom, the swans neck, and mermaid tails whipping out in dark seas.

Flicking over to a new page he started the process all over again and tried to remember he was at work. Rain thundered against the glass and cars drove by on the damp concrete hissing where they were and he could do nothing more but try and get this out of his system. Impossible he should have already figured. Illogical to keep on trying to wash out what was already buried under his skin and his professionalism was quickly going out the window in his desperation along with his awareness to things outside of his bubble of music and frustration.

"You've taken a liking to Mathias Kohler?" A gruff voice cut through a pause in his music and he yelped in his window of vulnerability, hands flying over the pages of his book and he turned around panicked to the German at his side, opening his mouth and trying to deny it Ludwig simply shook his head. "Don't. Look I know who he is, he's all over magazines don't worry. It's not as if everybody _already_ knows you live with him."

"I-"

"It's fine I'm not going to tell anybody if Herr Vargas doesn't." He chuckled though the humour wasn't anywhere on his face. "Seeing you flustered if something I will definitely take to my grave."

"Um."

"And at a loss for words. Sort yourself out and I suggest you get to class."

And act of boldness had him grabbing the younger teacher by the corners of his collar and crushing their lips together, teeth clicking in hopes that maybe it could change maybe a change of taste in his mouth that wasn't the expensive coffee or the rich red meat that was left against his tongue would chase away the ever present knowledge of_ Mathias_. His work self was completely disconnected by this frenzy for somebody who wasn't there and he couldn't even tell was real and he was so fucking happy when the German didn't let go and let him try and try again until he collapsed forward onto his shoulder and sucked in air as if trying to chase back tears.

"Forgive me. I don't usually act so out of hand." The Dutchman hissed from between his teeth. The burn was still there, the ache still a sharp reminded of what he didn't have. "I...Please don't tell Herr Vargas he'd fucking kill me. Italian's...violent or something...I don't know, don't correct me either."

"That was very...unprofessional of you Lars." When he was pulled back and forced to look into eyes that were too pale and too cold to be anything close to what he was so desperately missing. "But I understand this feeling. However I did go about it a bit differently, wish to know why?"

He nodded.

"I'm German." Smiling as if he'd cracked a joke the younger male laughed awkwardly and patted his shoulder, weakly Lars joined in and quickly scrubbed it off with the crook of his arm to fall back boneless into his seat, guilt in his stomach and regret churning it into a heavy weight. Ludwig left to make sure not to linger afterwards and rubbing his hands over his face he packed up and made his way to his classroom and resisted the urge to yell hopefully back at his ridiculously toned back.

The rest of the day passed of him numbly going through work and slide shows and exercises he'd revised the night before, the students appearing like black shadows behind the lights and their computers as he went over the behaviour of the human mind. Slipping in the occasional statement that suggested personal experience in the subtlest way he could manage. His chest dropping when he went through the stages of mental illness, and highlighting one section for himself to look into later about his flat mate who was quickly becoming something of dreams he wrapped up his final class for the day trying not to notice the way there was a small brunette with bright eyes and paint stains on his shirt sleeves sitting at the back of his lesson for it's entirety. As students came and went from his desk asking questions he answered mechanically and even went as far as to smile a little at a few of the ones who did well in his class, Feliciano began to sift through the crowd until he was at the Dutchman's desk with his eyebrows raised.

"You didn't come to lunch with Lud and me?"

"I was trying to look over all this...I'm...Sorry?"

"It's all okay, we're going to go get something to eat now if you'd like to join us?" He stretched onto his tip toes to look over his paperwork and slumped forward so his elbows were resting on the desk and his head was in his hands. "And you can look at whatever that is, too many long words for an art teacher hm?"

Lars couldn't help but smile a little at that and agreed to get something with the couple. And so they sat falling into a pattern they'd had for nearly a year with the elder male who looked too young for his age and the younger who looked too old talking backwards and forwards amongst each other and occasionally would drag Lars into the conversation. It was friendlier the way they spoke, no words to rip apart the inner most private thoughts and feelings of a person and more the light chatter that should go on between friends about work and friends and gossip that didn't involved people with too big of jobs that other's couldn't even imagine actually existed.

On his bike back from the cafeteria he brought a ticket to go back home for the weekend.

Unthinkingly he brought tickets for two.

xxx

When he came home to the sound of music on the other side of the door he could have thanked a million gods for not giving him what he'd walked in on months earlier and rather was gifted the sight of Mathias swaying from foot to foot to the stereo and a bottle of straight gin in his hands. Dressed down in an undoubtedly expensive ivory dress shirt that had the sleeves rolled to his elbows and a pair of briefs Mathias mouthed along to the lyrics to the song, _You see, I've got this disease I can't shake and I'm just rattling through life_, hair loose from it's usual glorified and artfully messy style hung in front of his eyes in damp wavy strands. Lars tried ignore the way his mouth watered at seeing the toned legs move the other from side to side in lazy movements or the way that before the rim of the bottle met the other's lips he would swipe his tongue out to wet them and take a long drag. When his head tipped back and his fringe fell away from his face Lars openly stared at the black eye the other sported and the streams of dried blood trailing down from each nostril and over his lips in browning streaks.

He cleared his throat to gain the other's attention and misted over eyes turned in his direction to show he'd claimed it.

"You alright?"

"Swell."

"You look like shit."

"_Danke_. Got in a bit o' a fight outside ah the office no biggy." His accent was noticeably thicker under the influence and Mathias turned his head again to drink the last of the contents from the bottle, only crouched down to claim another. "Well...somebody sort ah tried to mug m'..."

"Shit are you alright?"

"Got em away...didn't take anythin' so it's fiiiiine. _Helt skide perfekt_."

"You really don't know how to take of yourself do you?"

"Are ya done?"

Relieved and exhausted he threw his hands up in the air and shuffled back to his own room, leaving the Dane to do whatever he wished in the living room and he was just happy he was back no matter how beaten up he was. Leaving him to self medicate he crawled into his bedroom, the shift of energy from pleasant chatter to an atmosphere charged with something else entirely left the ends of his nerves tingling in anticipation as if he were waiting for something to happen. Pulling his sheets above his head after kicking off his shoes and trying to block out the music that was up a little too loud for the walls to muffle he stared out the window opposite to where he lay. He loved the night with a passion he couldn't quite put his finger on, similar to the way he loved his home country or the too drunk man in the living room. He tried to breathe it in and let the sound of his breathing and the muffled drop of bass outside his door lull him to some level of sleep. He focused entirely on the sound of his own heartbeat and his lungs working oxygen in and out to the point nothing else around him really...mattered.

The heavy weight of somebody dropping into his bed a few minutes later had him shoving his fist into his mouth to muffle an undignified squeak, he hadn't heard anybody come in and it had him frozen for a few moments until a hand came to rest on his face, the lingering smell of tobacco on rough fingertips brushed along his cheeks as if to see if he were stay awake and to which he promptly pretended to be resting soundly up until the 'intruder' slid onto where his stomach was and pressed his face to his shoulder.

He was completely and utterly smashed.

The strong scent of gin pierced his nostrils, effectively infiltrating and assaulting his sense to the point it had him light headed. It over powered the natural scent of oak and the artificial smell of cologne that was forever present on the blonde who was nuzzling against his chest where his heart was hammering away a million miles an hour and balling his hands in his shirt. Mathias's tie was loose around his neck, the top few buttons of his chest baring a deep v of his hairless chest and his vest hung off one arm, shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows and it would have been comical if not for the fact that holy-shit-he-was-grinding-into-Lars-and-fuck-not-t he-right-time-to-spring-a-boner-thanks. His fingers itched at his sides to sink into the heavily toned muscle of the Dane's thighs and help him with that problem that was stirring between the other's legs and it frustrated him more than anything that he couldn't act on his actions without alerting Mathias that he was indeed in fact 110% awake.

And millisecond by millisecond he slowly thought to hell with it.

His eyes opened and he grabbed the Dane by the legs as he had been holding himself back from doing and pushed his hips through the duvet so the other would be aware of how fucking hard Lars was at that exact moment to which Mathias fucking _purred_ and sat back on the Dutchman's crotch, rolling his hips against the mass in the other's briefs teasingly. Lars was taken aback when he saw the dusting of freckles on the other's cheeks, set alight by the light of the moonlight pouring in through his open windows, it was faint but still there and carefully depositing that information away for later he tipped his head back and out right groaned at the feeling of the other through the sheets. Mathias's mouth latched onto his neck, suckling lightly just enough so no mark would remain but still, it felt incredible. He almost had an aneurysm when that mouth, those lips, and that tongue made it's way up to his mouth.

Up until the Dane locked up, mumbling something that sounded like an apology he slid of the bed and stumble reasonably ungracefully out of the room at rapid speed, the bathroom door being ripped open by the sounds of it and lying down stunned in his place he slowly got up and followed after him. Mathias had his head hanging over the toilet seat, skin sheet white as he vomited up everything he'd eaten during the day and then some until all that came up was bile. He shook violently, eyes squeezed shut as he dry retched and Lars took to wiping his forehead down with a cloth which only at the last minute did he think to soak in water. Gently holding under his chin he wiped at the remaining traces of blood on his face until the cloth was unusable. Mathias's eyes weakly opened and his smile struggled to stay in place while the Dutchman tended to him, his face free of make up showed the purple bruising around his eye and the freckles that added some natural colour to his ghostly complexion.

"You really are a child." Lars muttered and the other snorted in empty amusement before he rested his head back on the edge of the bowl.

"Bare lade...kneppe...just leave me...here I'll be...alright." He tried to smile again as if to reassure the other but it only built up the knot of worry in his gut. Shaking his head he crouched down and pushed back the stray strands of the other's hair and tried not to compare him to Ludwig in the process. He was still slicked with sweat, the cloth of his shirt stuck to his chest and it was tempting and unbelievably unfair but pushing any unwanted thoughts away to the back of his head for the time being he carefully put his arms under the other and picked him up.

He was almost shocked at how skinny he really was, despite the way lean muscle clung to his forearms and legs Mathias weighed practically nothing in his arms. Frowning to himself he got them both through the door and took a turn to the Dane's bedroom.

"Nej...let me go I'm fine."

"You look like you're about to kick the bucket Mathias. You're going to bed." He was a little worried when he fell silent but didn't let it linger for too long until he had the blonde lying down on his side, head rested on the pillow and in the foetal position while he went to get a bucket and another cloth. Tired, Lars kept the bucket close to the bed and wiped the sweat from the other before pulling him up and taking off his shirt without much thought. His ribs were hardly visible which was good by Lars' definition of healthy but it was worrying the way his stomach caved in every so slightly and his hips were more prominent than they perhaps should have been. The Dane let the other do what he wished, practically a rag doll in his hands until he was lying back down again and he opened his eyes back up, hands on Lars' arm to keep him in place pathetically.

"Ophold?" Mathias said, swallowing thickly after he spoke.

"English? German? French?"

"Ah sorry...Stay?" He blinked a few times as if fighting consciousness.

"I'm just in the next..." He bit back the rest of his sentence, it was a window of opportunity and he guessed the other wouldn't remember exactly what happened. So just as he noticed the other was leaning in to brush their lips together, Mathias' sour with vomit and alcohol and Lars' only slightly parted as he exhaled at the tingling from the timid gesture. Nodding he joined Mathias in the bed, keeping to one side he patted the other on the shoulder before rolling onto his stomach.

"Liquid courage hm...works like a charm..."

"Go to sleep Mathias."

The steady breathing coming from the Dane was evidence enough that he followed through with the order.

xxx

He'd woken up once in the night, surprised to find the sheets pulled over both of their heads and the Dane smiling across from him as moonlight penetrated the white covers and filtered through. He'd blinked a few times, hands balled at his cheeks before he'd fallen back asleep, confused and surprisingly at peace. The next morning Mathias looked like death slumped up against the cupboard and watching the coffee machine work it's magic for a few moments. His hands scratching his hip under the band of his briefs. He looked to be perfectly honest like shit, his eyes were bloodshot and his hands shoot violently when he finally had the mug between his fingers. Desperately he downed what he could before setting it up for another. His hair was clumped together in weird places, undoubtedly not been washed and the nights of not sleeping were clear in the dark circles under his eyes. Lars had woken up to watching the other sit on the floor of his bedroom, a pair of aviator shades on that would have been ridiculous if not for how evident it was he was probably sporting the worst headache in existence and was sorting out tiny white piles of pills before taking them in order with a glass of water.

"Paracetamol. Ibuprofen. Daily lithium tablets and paroxetine. Don't worry I'm not trying to off myself yet." Mathias said after he caught the other staring down at him. "I'm taking the shots on the shower first."

After he disappeared into the room and kept his promise of claiming the bathroom, Lars went straight to his room to sort out his clothes and take the time to look up what exactly his flatmate was taking. The other two he knew the use for, he'd have to be an idiot not to but the names of the other two went straight over his head in use. He felt his heart drop in his chest when the names of the other two were brought up in search and his lips tugged down into a frown.

He hadn't suspected anything different. His suspicions about mental illness were confirmed when he went through what he had been teaching his students.

It probably wasn't healthy to take two different types of the same pill.

Closing everything up he took a few moments to let it sink in until he heard the bathroom become free again and let himself use the rest of the hot water, giving himself the sweet time to get ready. And after getting changed Lars made sure to be as annoyingly cheery as he could despite how out of place it may have been and hummed an obnoxious tune as he made his breakfast and greeted the other in the kitchen. He wouldn't let the new knowledge change the fact the other had him up most of the night and he was going to get back his revenge in perhaps the most pathetic way possible without stirring too much shit.

"Did we swap personalities or something over night?" Mathias muttered before the cup had taken it's place back at his mouth while he took his place on his seemingly favourite chair. "Did you get laid or something?"

"Do you like Pink Floyd?" Lars said, swinging himself up onto the bench.

The Dane blinked slowly, mouth hanging open as he let out a drawn out 'uuhhh'. "Yeah...why..."

"Come with me to Amsterdam."

"Eh..?" Mathias looked out him in bare confusion, head tipped back over the edge of the couch a marshmallow between his teeth. "Don't you have like friends?"

Lars dropped the façade and stared at him unimpressed, rolling his eyes he grabbed a fist full of surprisingly soft hair and yanked. "Ja. And if I remember you claimed me as your best friend and you haven't been here in months so lets go out and do what friends do."

"So you don't have friends. And are asking your flatmate, that must be a new low." The Dane grabbed Lars' wrist, nails digging into his skin until he let up and let go. His smile indicated he was joking and Lars remembered quite clearly the 'you know you're my best friend right?' that had been muttered to him in an abandoned mansion weeks ago

"Look are you coming or not? It's only for one maybe two days, you look like you could use a short break anyway."

"..." Mathias sighed, shrugging he went back to his book. "Sounds good. When?"

"Tomorrow."

"Perfect." A smile stretched at the blonde's cheeks.

xxx

On the plane Lars couldn't help but look out of the corner of his eye at the Dane who was smiling to himself as if reminiscing a memory or a joke, originally he was just watching him to distract him from the fact that he was feeding his fear of flying miles above the ground in a piece of tin and that was just no okay and was trying not to break into cold sweats as his fear of heights and flight kicked in. Though the longer he looked, original motive obviously working he watched simply for enjoyment and the sparkle in the other's eyes confused Lars.

"Do you realise we seem to do everything exciting at night? Not that I'm complaining I love the dark but the only time we really went out during the day was when we went to the park."

"Interesting...observation."

"I know right? I swear to god we're nocturnal or something."

When he moved his hand to pick up the plastic cup of water that sat on his bench he realised he was clutching onto Mathias' hand like a vice.

Fuck.

xxx  
Amsterdam never failed to make Lars feel at ease, his eyes fell closed as he felt the press of the other's face against the wool of the Dutchman's jersey while they biked around looking for the coffeeshop Lars was sure the other would enjoy and Lars was certain he would keep to his promise of getting him there. He kept half his face obscured by his scarf to hide his smile while he appreciated the warmth contrasting against the cold on his arms and the beaming grin that crossed his expression when the Dane tightened his arms tighter around Lars and his chin propped up against his shoulder to people watch until they arrived at their destination. He mindlessly talked about his favourite places without really thinking about it, pointing out where he used to relax, what he used to do before he moved to Germany and even going as far to ask Mathias if there was anything he wanted to do to which Mathias told him he could chose if he wanted to before he fell into silence again.

The bell chimed overhead when they went in and immediately they were sprung for identification. Both their ID's ended up on the counter before they continued and Mathias stayed quiet, looking around the small shop, mouthing the words to the songs playing overhead.

"Who's your friend there?" The cashier said in thickly accented English, before he could open his mouth to reply Lars cut in smoothly.

"Mathias Kohler."

He smiled as friendly as she could, his hand stuck out to take the cashier's hand and he greeted him warmly before pulling away to grab a seat.

"Mathias. I'm very jealous Lars he's a keeper, ja?"

He laughed quietly scratching the back of his head. "We're uh...we're not together." At the raise of eyebrows he thanked the cashier and moved to the table where Mathias was leaning back, eyes closed as he took in even breaths and his fingers began to drum out to the beat of the music on the tabletop. His crooked smile was still faintly on his mouth and Lars sat back and admired the Dane while he had the chance, looking on the surface you could very much tell he was lovely but looking longer still, even with the fire licking in his eyes when they were open again and giving the Dutchman a blank stare and the slight tense hold to his shoulders he was beautiful.

He was still unable to read him with that easy smile and later on the fluent Dutch that came from him as he engaged in conversation with the couple waiting alongside them, and it made Lars sit in absolute shock as he conversed. He'd been under the impression he didn't understand a word of Dutch yet here he was babbling on about how he liked the city to the others. Lars found himself fascinated at the way he spoke fluidly, never missing a beat to be charming, a never missing the chance to make a joke. It was refreshing to be around, to indulge in the way his words flowed together smoothly, teeth glinting with the curled back lips and it made Lars smile unconsciously, feeling hopelessly warm the longer he sat back and picked apart the finer details. The couple soon left and the Dane pulled out a book from his backpack, the page he was last at bookmarked with a candy wrapper and when he looked over at him curiously, an eyebrow raised, he turned his whole body around to face him properly. "What are you thinking about?"

"Porn." Congratulations Lars. You've done it. Shown how intelligent you are 10/10 truly showing your degree.

"You seem to be feeling rather poetic about life." With a false bat of eyelashes he snickered and picked up his book, busying his mouth with a brownie.

Lars decided that the other was creative in the way he twisted his words and the manipulation of body language, dramatic in some ways, an actor, whereas Lars was creative with a pencil, writing down things that would fill notebook after notebook and drawings that would capture the very essence of life. He smiled warmly at his comment, stuffing the rest of his food into his mouth which was still pulled up at the corners even with a mouth full of god knows what and Mathias smiled back, shaking his head and muttering affectionately under his breath.

"I knew you could smile." The nordic grinned and kept his eyes back on the pages of his book. "I fucking knew it."

With a roll of his eyes he urged the Dane to talk about his life when he was younger, however the slight discomfort he appeared to have been feeling on the topic he smiled tensely and the way he spoke was enough to have Lars almost feeling as if he were there when the blonde was 14 and stole a car to drive around at high speeds through Germany, no questions asked by anybody as he passed by, he could smell the oil, feel the brush of wind caressing his cheeks. He lost himself in the way he described Christiana, the rugged streets coloured with art and crumbling bricks that was beautiful and filthy at the same time and even though he himself had been one to grow up on a farm and seek that out he could imagine the lure such a place must have held to a 16 year old, a vigilante and a rebel that Lars was having a hard time seeing on the sharp features of the Dane apart from the wild shift of his eyes as he spoke and the boisterous gestures that aided him in explaining each part of his story.

Lars spoke of the tulip fields that he'd grown up around, enough for him to sprint through and simply collapse into paddocks of red and yellow. He was a quiet boy back then, in his own little world that consisted of his sister, the stray rabbits that lazied near their house and the kindly couple that raised the two of them until they were old enough to go their own ways. He'd bike from town to town some weekends, let himself feel free as he went wherever he pleased without having to talk to anybody other than the odd street vendor. And later on the street vendor's the offered him his first hit of the drug he'd chosen a strong liking to over all else and he'd moved to central Amsterdam for a while with the remainder of his little inheritance, got himself into a university and coasted things through smoothly until his sister dragged his ass to Germany. Mathias asked seldom questions, his voice hesitant as if worried to disturb the other and Lars simply laughed at that, the way his eyebrows would pull together before he spoke and he half expected him to raise his hand and wait patiently for the Dutchman to finish before inquiring.

Despite the fact Mathias was the sort of asshole who would have pulled chairs out from under people before they sat down in a past life, he was probably the same guy that would have spelt out I love you with fries while the rest were stuffed in his mouth and he was smiling around them. Lars tried to picture a younger Dane, more carefree with less of the world's pressure entrapping him in the manic depression he carried on his shoulders. Lars guessed now however he was the kind of guy who would sit on the beach with an arm slung around whoever's waist to keep them warm from the cold and watch the stars with a silly grin. But the harder he tried to see a younger Mathias he kept on thinking back to the boy in his class he'd seen for barely a day with pen marks on his arms in disturbing images to hide the risen skin of obvious scars.

While they were talking he surprised himself by playing mindlessly with hands that could have belonged to a violinist in another life, frowning at the state of forever beat up knuckles and bitten down nails, the skin around the edges not too much better. Ragged and chewed down out of habit.

"You know biting your nails is a bad habit right?" Lars said, cutting off whatever story Mathias was about to launch into.

"Falling in love with me is a bad habit but people do it anyway." He said pointedly and leaned across with a smile and his voice dropped. "I'm crazy, not stupid."

It was Lars' turn to remain silent.

Then Mathias kissed him.


	6. just rattling through life

ahhhh thank you guys so much for everything the comments and the favourites really are making my day UwU  
I was a little unsure of what to do for this chapter but I hope it's alright! I tend to have this habit of planning separate chapters that are like ages apart and oh gosh it ends pretty badly because how to link them all together? We just don't know (pain)  
anyway like i said I hope this is alright feel free to right an opinion ect ect and I'll definitely respond a.s.a.p haha  
(also wow i realised how sappy this gets at times I'm super sorry about that  
drama should ensue at some point but i have no idea how to link it in blah im so bad at this)

**Modern Leper - Frightened Rabbit**

* * *

It was strange to be kissed by somebody with a split lip, the texture broke the smooth press of lips with something scratchier. Now Lars wasn't complaining despite how fleeting it was, a quick, light press of lips that had him wanting to lean forward and take it deeper. But there was something sweet in it, the way the other's hand curled around his jaw and held him in place as he let the contact linger for once second, two, three, four and yet it felt like infinity was between them as cliché as it sounded. When Mathias sat back smiling for a few moments as if he'd accomplished something, did he already crave the now absent lips all over again, it was something greedy in his gut and a chant in his head.

Rather than listen to the insistent thoughts he stared across at the other in bewilderment who went back to his book like it was nobody's business.

"I want to go swimming." Lars said after a while.

"Save it for night, everything's better then don't you think?" Mathias said with a smile. "I'm sure you know some places we can break into. I think the ocean might be too restless for us to take a dip then."

Against his morals he smiled back and nodded. "For night it is then."

xxx

"No you idiot don't fucking buy that it's too expensive." Lars growled under his breath, pulling the paperback from the Dane's hands and putting it back where it was.

"Are you seriously living up to the stereotype."

"Shut up. If you had to be tight on your money your whole life you'd understand, anyway that isn't really the original copy." He rolled his eyes and dragged the Dane away from the stand. "You could get the exact same thing for cheaper elsewhere."

"This is the most amusing thing. So what, is your chequebook the biggest influence in your life or?"

"I could say the same for you."

"No, no, no the difference between me and you my frowny faced friend is that I don't care where my money ends up or how I spend it because I have enough of it to simply blow it. Capisce?" He smiled and tucked his hands in the sleeves of his jersey. "Even if I wasn't rolling in it I'd still be alright with it I mean it's just paper. It runs our lives stupidly but we're just sacks of meat walking around on a giant floating rock, our entire lives run by paper and to be honest I don't see the point in giving a shit about it."

"That entire sentence is making me break out into cold sweats hold on I need a moment to recompose myself."

"You shit." Mathias hit him playfully on the arm before going back to what he was doing and paid upfront for the book in cash before tucking it into their shared backpack for the day and continuing on. Lars was finding it hard to believe that the other didn't own clothes that made his heart clench at the state of his bank account but then he remembered. "You don't need to count how much money you've got when there's better things to do to spend your time, it's all just paper and numbers."

Millionaire.

Groaning inwardly he followed after the growingly hyperactive Dane who bounced from shop to shop thinking about what to get as souvenirs and Lars had nothing else to do but tag along behind him. It was nice to see him smiling cheerfully like that and conversing with people as if he'd known them his entire life and while they appeared taken aback he was a little surprised by how many cashiers and shop owners appreciated his optimistic chatter. Apart from the one person who stared him down and asked him to be quiet. At least there were some people with some kind of sense around here and Mathias took it easily just nodded shut up and paid up before slipping out and as soon as they were a few blocks away did he start bitching.

Lars wasn't really thinking much about the words coming out of the other's mouth, more he was thinking about the lips that formed the words that had been on his only a few hours earlier. He was still questioning what it meant, if it was returned affection or what.

It better not just be pity.

After they entered another book store did he start paying attention to what Mathias was actually saying rather than nodding, slipping in the odd 'oh yeah' 'cool' 'you're talking too much shut up'

"I love libraries and I've had the pleasure of going around to see the best of them, the last book store was incredible, and a few others hell one even had a slide in it. I think I need to show you some of the photos I got you'd love them" Mathias laughed and continued browsing through the dustier looking novels. "Somebody once said 'a library is the hospital for the mind' and I couldn't think of a more true statement."

"You really like metaphors."

"If you read as much as I have you'd learn to appreciate literature." The Dane leaned up against Lars' shoulder. "However, you spent most of your time studying to work didn't ya? No time to read or have fun what a shame."

"Well you're making up for my lost time then."

"I can't make up for what 25 years of lost time."

"How-"

"Yeah I know." Mathias smiled brilliantly. "Happy Birthday Lars."

They ended up leaving earlier than what Mathias had said they should, the sun was only just starting to set and stretched their shadows across the concrete. Mathias chattered about odds and ends, asking about Lars' past birthday's to which he just shrugged and said most of them were spent with his sister or Arthur or with Matthew that one time but other than that he didn't really do anything special. An expression crossed the Dane's face that he couldn't quite but his finger on but he didn't ask, anyway by the time they'd approached the wired fence to the swimming pool, long closed and trying to swallow back his anxiety he climbed over, pulling the blonde up with him as he went. Their feet hit the ground hard, ground shock exploding painfully in the Dutchman's feet and made him bite into his hand to smother his whine.

Mathias looked entirely unscathed and was already stripping out of his clothes to bare his shorts and was already in the water before Lars even had his shirt over his head. For somebody so lanky the Dane packed on muscle nicely, his arms definitely enough and strength was shown in his legs and chest. Shaking his head the Dutchman slipped in after him, completely submerging himself in the water until it was above his head and he'd sunk to the bottom.

Lars looked up at the water until it stilled above him, chlorine burning his eyes but not enough for too much discomfort. He watched the sky through the translucent surface, smiling up dimming sky and the stars that were just straining to be visible through the rays of light coming from the sun, stars he was lucky enough to even see as they were long burnt out and non-existent by the time their own light had reflected back to Earth. The sun warmed the pool barely and leaves for the coming Autumn dusted the surface like tiny ships. He was fine down there for the few seconds he was able to sit on the bottom of the pool and just look up until his lungs began to panic. That was until just as he was about to push up to the surface the water broke and Mathias cut through the water like it was nothing and rested his hands on either side of his face, smile brilliant until their lips were pushed together he was mesmerised by how the water shifted the locks of the Dane's hair above his head like a halo. He looked almost like a character out of his favourite fairytale.

He was left at the bottom of the pool alone again, suddenly and painfully remembering people had to breath and moved as quickly as he could to propel himself back to the surface and suck in as much air as he could, lungs desperately taking in fresh air as soon as his head broke through the stillness and he pulled himself back onto the edge of the pool, legs half submerged under the water. Quietly he watched as the blonde swam lengths of the pool, muscles pulling taut with every movement in such a delicious way that should only be in films or in dreams or simply be something illegal.

He thought by himself under the gentle sounds of moving water and the warmth of the afternoon breeze, letting himself be lost to the world of his own thoughts with the sounds around him as his guide. He was surprised to say the least that he had been so obvious when he thought he hid it well enough, he was even more surprised that somebody who could take whatever and whoever he wanted would be happy enough to be affectionate with him. The brief kisses all remained tingling on his lips as his personal brand of mental case glided through the water as if he were the one to control it's movements. Charming and an undeniable presence when around others but around Lars he was just...well for one he seemed a little awkward at times and the rest of the time he was just digging into Lars' soul with his words and thoughts but other than that he was unbelievably awkward or too forward and would apologise for it later.

Lars was starting to find himself in the centre of the web of thought that love...was really the base of most feelings. You love to hate, anger is created off an anger that is fuelled by passion, passion is a form of love and even while you're in love you can still experience so many more feelings on top of it. Because they're all contained within that controlling emotion. It birthed a hatred in himself to think that the centre of his happiness had begun to be a person who slipped through his fingers like dust when he so wished, that he was kind of addicted and more than a little dependant on him. Then he began to rely on trust on top of that, trust came in and became important to trust that he wouldn't just leave and never came back. He trusted enough that there would be many days that his laugh would be enough to make Lars himself happy again and that all he would need is that warmth, that knowledge that he was actually there and not a figment of his imagination to be at ease. An assurance even. He began to trust him from the first conversation in his room, trusted he'd be there every single day and despite wherever Mathias' jobs would take him he would be back. But the days between Lars would start to forget if it were real, if that smile, those eyes, those arms and that voice all belonged to an actual person.

And he had tried the months in between, drunk nights alone at a bar where he'd end up at another's house with his lips at theirs and his hands on their body trying not to pretend that he wasn't pretending. That stupid, idiotic, intelligent, scarily beautiful blonde was irreplaceable. And that was before they'd so much as shared a kiss where one of them, or both for that matter, was not intoxicated by something. The one night stands in stranger's beds weren't enough, the casual pickings from the massive parties would not sate his wants and the land of imagination and dreams was the worst type of torment. Because the fantasies didn't feature the Dane's nervous habit of chewing on his nails, or his fingers, nor did it have the shaking that would coarse through his body when he was over excited or the wheeze in his breath when he was scared.

It was worrying how many times Mathias had starting wheezing the past few months, as his attacks of anxiety hit him as did violent shudders and a terrible sound when he tried to breath through it. Eventually he'd just give up on fresh air and shakily light himself a cigarette to try and calm himself down. But Lars couldn't help but keep a watchful eye over him every time that slim ledge of stability that Mathias seemed to be perched on fell beneath his feet. Though he understood.  
He'd had his own fair share of panic attacks the past few months and even if the Dane had been feeling particularly shitty about life and everything in it, even if he'd be spewing out vile curses and still use his extensive knowledge of language to make it sound like poetry, he'd stop immediately and take to looking after the Dutchman as he'd attempt to pull out his own hair and pant excessively until he grew light headed.

They were both a pair of screw ups in their own little world, one run by too many fears and the other run by mental illness that made him act fearless up until his moments of weakness when suddenly everything happened too much, there was too much of everything and it would hit him hard.

Mathias surfaced from the water, paddling forward until his chin was resting on his forearms on the edge of the pool beside Lars. "Was it what you wanted."

"You're really something Mathias."

He snorted and rolled his eyes. "Something but not much. Anyway did you like your birthday."

"It's lacking cake."

"Patience is a virtue."

xxx

On his 16th he finally thought 'fuck it' and did something on impulse rather than waiting it out. When the teacher's back was turned he rose from his seat and dropped into an empty seat beside the boy who sat at the back of the classroom. He didn't say anything just nodded at the hooded male and continued on with the work that had been assigned to them, he'd been look over his shoulder every so often to see if he could catch a glimpse of the other's face and hadn't had much success but the entire time during the class he had been drawing up and down his arms with his headphones in and his attention wasn't given to the teacher at all. But when Lars looked off to the side, now a lot closer than he had been all of the work had been answered and done in a language he couldn't read but guessed for a new student it was alright. His knuckles were beaten up like he'd been punching things out of fits of anger, nails bitten down and hands generally uncared for.

He wrote on the back of a worksheet, _when did you start I haven't seen you here before?_ Writing linked in Dutch and slipped the paper across, guessing the other could read it at least.

He wasn't expecting it to be thrown back with sharp, sloping writing right underneath his in broken Dutch that he pieced together the best he could. _I don't go here.__  
What?_

_I'm here for fun, did you hear an extra name be called out?_

The boy's eyes were hidden by his hood but he could see the upturn of thin lips that shaped his murmur in heavily accented English. "Don't tell. This is getting interesting."

"Are you going to be here tomorrow?"

"Probably not." He continued to draw on the top of his palm, tracing the lines and ridges of his bones. "So what's your name."

"Lars. You?"

He shook his head and fell back into saying nothing.  
The next day no matter how much Lars looked over to the corner the nameless boy in the dark hood never came back.  
He sat in that seat for the rest of the year.

xxx

His phone buzzed on their way back to the hotel and he frowned just a little as the I.D brought up the name of his favourite Englishman.

"Hel-"

"YOU TWO ARE FUCKING TOGETHER WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME?"

"What are you-"

"HAVE YOU SEEN THE BLOODY PAPERS. HAVE. YOU. SEEN. THEM. THERE ARE PICTURES OF YOU ALL OVER FUCKING HOLLAND WHEN WERE YOU GOING TO TELL ME?"

"I haven't seen shi-"

"I SWEAR TO GOD THE NEXT TIME I SEE YOU I'M GOING TO-"

"WOULD YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP KIRKLAND I'M TRYING TO SPEAK." He tried not to laugh as he yelled down the line at the Dane's surprised expression. When he looked up to smile at Mathias he found that the other had turned his face away and was staring down at the ground with a scowl. His smile slid off his face and the neutral expression he wore as default slipped back on. "I'll talk to you when we get back to Frankfurt alright go take a pill."

"OH WHAT I HOPE YOU'RE GOI-"

He hung up and slumped against the brick walls beside the Dane immediately Mathias reverted to the version of him that spoke long words about topics that shouldn't be questioned.

He was anticipating the drawn out talks about life and the meaning of things that perhaps shouldn't have meanings behind them like a child would their birthday, it was a gift to be able to see Mathias lose himself to topics he'd thought about and written about on post it notes that he had stuck up around his room. How he wouldn't smile as if he were happy but more like he was appreciative of how Lars was willing to listen to his thoughts and feelings and how the Dutchman was even more willing to share his own. He wanted to write novels about what the other would say and sure enough what he would speak about would be enough to fill several notebooks.

He learnt that the day was too exhausting and irritating for Mathias' liking. How he took comfort in the way night filled his senses and he could breathe it in, hear it's silence and see the endless dark that would always be there, it would always come and it would never leave until the sun chose to chase it away. How he found the mystery in the darkest shadows that would pass through the void of light more intoxicating than bottles of liquor and the way things appeared more sinister in the night. Lars would agree, the sunshine and blue skies and warm air and fresh morning breeze would bring along the false hope of a day free of the crushing weight to look and act and speak in a way presentable to those who could see in the light where in the looming immensity of space they could see nothing.

Mathias would smile a little wider when he joined in, his eyes would sparkle a little brighter and he would continue to talk about things people would accuse him of being a mad man for thinking and feeling. That he'd feel strangely happy and more alive, younger even as the shadows lengthened. How it felt as if the softness of the waxing and waning dark would feel like a gift from the heavens and would grant him a strength he could only dream of having under the weary drag of day.

Lars couldn't question how the conversations started, who started them or why but he was content being able to free this side of the Dane even under the safety of the moon they talked to enthusiastically about. The city remained swamped in the great wall of night that covered all living and stationary things in a way sunlight could not. A silent embrace of blissful comfort in the form of the unknown and unruly.

And this conversation engaged the Dutchman more perhaps because the man beside from him so perfectly fit the description they applied to the hours of a day where colour was destroyed in a simple caress. He fitted the scenery around them that was darkening as night rapidly dawned upon them.

"I need to make you dinner." Mathias said after a long silence.

"Do you know Arthur?"

"You sure like changing the subject a lot." The other's eyes pinched and he shrugged, stuffing his hands into the safety of his jean's pockets and the tender air that had been around him dissipated. "I know _of_ an Arthur. You called him by his last name on the phone I take it."

"Yeah?"

"Then I know of that particular Arthur." Mathias pushed off the wall and continued walking, Lars had to run to catch up to him. "We sort of work in the same field but on opposite sides. Anyway what was it that had him screaming down the line?"

"I have a feeling people noticed you were out and about. With me."

"Ah the flies have already started swarming. Brilliant." He chuckled. "Well now I don't see why that would have him fired up."

"He thinks we're together."

"Brilliant." He repeated.

"What are we?"

Mathias' mouth froze on what he was about to say, brows pulled together and he shook his head. "Friends?"

"Friends."

"Or something."

"That sounds more fitting."

xxx

As soon as Mathias was in the hotel he made a beeline straight for the kitchen for half a glass of whiskey. While he was leant up against the counter, hips pressed up against the marble he took long sips from the glass, trying not to wince at the overbearing and strong taste that filled his gulley and burnt his throat. Lars ran his tongue over his teeth, trying not to be too obvious in his appreciation for the skin tight jeans or the loose white shirt that didn't want to stay straight in it's position to bear black markings on the other's back. He walked over, arms slowly looping around the Dane's waist and pulled him close. Suspecting of the lack of resistance he rested his chin over the blonde's shoulder as he had done to Lars months ago and hesitantly pressed his lips to the shell of his ear. Restraint, dignity and logic no longer existing as he heavily breathed into the other's neck. And for the third time in his life after slipping the $170 down on the living room table did he think 'fuck it'.

"You'll be strong. You're not alone in this any more Mathias. Stop looking so depressed it doesn't fit you." He waited until the other had taken another shaky mouthful of whiskey before turning him around and tipping his chin up to seal his lips over his to pull it from Mathias' mouth and into his own. He felt the silent laughter in the form a sigh as the Dane's eyes crinkled at the corners and their tongues began to play once he'd swallowed it down. He started to wonder if this is what mental illness tasted like. Sweet, bitter, addictive.

Mathias attempted to push the glass behind him before he wove his fingers through his hair and pressed harder, dragging him down while he leant back to rest his full weight against the bench. The Dutchman took a firm hold on the backs of his upper legs and pulled him onto the counter, fingers running up the material of the stiff denim until he had both hands full of Mathias' buttocks and yanked him closer. An undignified whine left him and turned into an airy chuckle on his tongue when his own brushed along the roof of the Dane's mouth and sucked at his own muscle. Lars prayed this was enough to take the blonde away from the dark place that started to pull him into his clutches when thin fingers left their hold on his hair to cling on for dear life on the back of his neck. The deepness of it settled into a simple massage of lips and eventually left Lars sucking Mathias' bottom lip, his tongue running along the swelling skin until they broke apart.

"You're an idiot for doing that Lars." There was no regret in the statement, a sadness that the Dutchman couldn't explain perhaps. "I'm not going to be able to quit you after this."

"Who said I was asking you to."

"You're still fucking stupid."

"There's nothing wrong about kissing your _something_."

Mathias slid down from his position on the bench and batted his hand at the Dutchman's arm until he moved. "I need to make us something to eat."

"You said that just before."

"Yeah and I'm repeating it go set up somewhere for us to actually enjoy the no doubt amazing meal I'm about to make."

"Ego's getting a bit high there. Did you even buy food?"

"Brought stuff with me. Anyway, move it and be amazed."

His smile did things to Lars' chest that would be described in a teenaged girl's romance novel and with a roll of his eyes he went off to do as the other asked. Dumping pillows on the ground beside the coffee table he opted for a spot beside an ancient looking fire place and after much internal debate took to sitting cross legged as he tried to bring a fire to life with the left over logs of half burnt wood.

And while he attempted to bring the embers to catch alight he tried not to think about the man in the next room who was singing to himself as he worked over the creak of the oven door and the smell of marinaded meat wafted through the crack of the kitchen door along with the breeze that blew the hotel curtains towards Lars and ruined his constant attempts at both the fire and pushing out the every needy presence of the Dane from his head. He figured he was too deep in this to really stop, to stop trying to really understand and decipher if the other male was a figment of his imagination half the time. He had this strange way of making Lars feel unproductive, always simply_ there_ and it was nagging and hard to ignore. He wondered when the bitterness began to grow in his fingertips when he'd reach out towards Mathias even when he was miles away in another country and make his heart grow heavy with the knowledge the blonde was much too far away to reach when all he wanted was a reminder of his voice. He wondered when he began to toss and turn in his sleep even when he knew Mathias was sleeping soundly and safely in the room down the hall in the apartment, yet somehow something always seemed off, like he could just vanish or wake up dead and Lars would be left practically alone again. And he wished there would be something that would just tell him why he was so afraid of losing him even though he wasn't his despite the increased and exhilarated affections shared between the two of them.

And he asked the silence in his thoughts why he still felt alone when arms draped around this neck and a chin propped itself up on the top of his head and moved with every word that left Mathias' mouth. The other had this way of using words as well, when he went into detail about how much he loved Lars' rare smiles his chest clenched, how he loved the positively pure green of his eyes his breath caught in his throat, and how he loved the way he was so sincere and so sombre about the thoughts that ran through his head, how his extensive knowledge in psychology allowed him to connect to Mathias in a way that nobody really had, how he loved his lips, he loved his voice, he loved the way he always looked as if he were bored but his eyes would give away everything, those words nearly drove Lars to the very brink of extreme behaviour on his behalf, nearly on the verge of tears and nearly on the verge of screaming in frustration about how easily Mathias could say all of that but it still lacked that single ingredient. The declaration of independence from his own emotions and the complete and utter surrender to that of the root of all emotion.

He spoke of how he loved things about Lars.

But he would not utter the sentence to seal it.

Instead he hugged a little tighter and backed off to the kitchen, taking his words, thoughts and the over powering and truthfully mouth watering scent of cologne with him. He left Lars feeling as if he'd been broken down and worn down by the mix of syllables and sounds that created such beautiful and heart breaking words.


	7. backstory schmackstory

this is just a really short chapter, a little backstory on Mathias I  
hope it's written well enough I've been in and out of having the flu so I've been a bit out of it lately haha wow im really sorry

**Pumped up Kicks - Foster the people  
**

* * *

Mathias wasn't really sure about when it started, when he finally opened his eyes and saw the world as something too big to understand and everything outside of it endlessly fascinating and something he wanted to try to understand. He wanted to understand the unexplainable and the rest he didn't really care for. All he was sure of was when he was 14 and his parents were proclaimed dead did he realise that hitting the bottle a year earlier with a kid from Finland he'd talked to all but once save for the nights they'd break out of their respective homes hadn't been the smartest idea of his life at that point and that he wouldn't be able to steal his father's cigars while he took joy rides in a car he barely knew how to drive. But then again at 14 with his voice still going through the process of cracking and his 'parents' dead did he figure he just didn't give a shit and continued to raid the liquor cabinet and hit it harder the night before he was to be sent off to a boarding school with kids who's parents had half the sum of money left in his account that was instructed in his parents will.

He should have been sad that his parents were gone, and he told himself at the time that the reason he was drinking so much night after night at such a young age until the careless watch of maids was to forget it ever happened when in reality it was to deal with the amount of fake sympathy that came his way from people he'd never met.

Anyway he never really felt as if his parents were really his parents, they disconnected themselves from him once he was diagnosed with words too long for him to care about but understood the gravity of them all too well from nights spent hiding underneath bed sheets with a book and a torch in hand. They thought him crazy, a complete lunatic and utterly damaged by his list of illnesses that they paid less and less attention to him in fear of catching it. So he wasn't sad. He didn't know them that well after all.

And maybe they were right, maybe he was utterly bat shit insane, impulsive, rebellious and repulsive on top of it all.

Mathias had pondered that as he walked away from the grand house with adults flanked on either side of him and all of it's riches with a trained smile on his face and even laughter curling at the back of his throat. His suitcase felt light in his hands and the chuckles even lighter on his tongue compared to the worrisome stares coming from the people escorting him to the car.

He made friends with two of the most poker faced boys at the school, both a year under him and more irritable than he expected. His optimism in their little trio started to seem less and less plastic the more he had to force it onto the silence that hung over them most of the time. He joked about him being the king of Scandinavia and them his subordinates, the prettier of the two from Norway and the other from Sweden, the both of them gave up on telling him to stop being so delusional once they'd caught wind of his profile. By that point a round faced boy with a huge smile and an easy personality had joined their trio. When he was 15 he ran away with Berwald to Christiania. The Swede got caught for not being careful enough and being too awkward when it came to coaxing people into being quiet whereas Mathias had learnt to charm people from the get go with an easy smile and a bat of eyelashes. After he was taken away the Dane ended up staying with a girl with pretty green eyes and long brown hair and a witty sense of humour that rubbed off on him after a while. She taught him how to protect himself, languages and where to find the resources to learnt he ones she didn't know.

Sometimes they'd sit together the way he had with Tino, on the edge of a rooftop with a bottle but rather than talking she'd tell him to let go, to let the overpowering and overwhelming weight of the universe embrace him and they'd scream into the night that he'd come to love so much. Scream up at the stars and let go of any worries, let go of the pressure until they'd break into laughter. When he was older the laughter changed to their lips being pressed together and the mixed taste of saliva and whiskey on both their tongues.

He was grateful for the distractions between whatever work he did to keep a place under her care, she wasn't much older than him but she had the wisdom of somebody who had been around for centuries and he appreciated that just a little less than the literature he managed to pull out from abandoned buildings to pass the time when he was feeling a little shittier than usual. If it weren't that he'd look for the stories of homeless men and sit on the side walks as they told him stories and secrets that would later be his inspiration. Some fed his metal issues others soothed them and some just left him asking himself questions about strange happens for weeks on end.

Just before he turned 16 he decided to go to Amsterdam.

He was caught and dragged back on heel the day after he was found loitering around public places. He didn't voice any complaints after they got their hands around him and had him secured, the men in suits who he didn't recognise were wary of him after the people that had originally surrounded him were left twitching in piles. He smiled to himself let them wrap him up and dump him in a car. They made sure he was cleaned up and decent before they sent him back to the school. He smiled the entire way back.

Tino lost all his baby fat and was looking well enough hanging off Berwald's arm. Lukas ended up being flanked by his half brother, a cute kid who was too quiet and seemed to be pretty deep in the teen angst thing when he did talk. And the four stared down the rebellious Dane who had been off the map for nearly a year and to them he smiled wider and let himself be poked and prodded to where he needed to go as he passed them in the hall.

Nothing happened apart from he was handed a new school uniform and practically a slap on the hand before he was thrown into a room with his favourite Norwegian who he nearly forgot all about. It was silent and awkward as he unpacked his few possessions into his own corner, trying not to break into conversation with the pale haired male who's eyes were burning into the back of his head as he worked. It turned out he didn't need to be the one to start conversation.

"Where have you been?"

"Everywhere."

"Berwald told them you were in Christiania."

"And then I left a little while to another place."

"And they found you there?"

"Nej. They found me in Netherlands." His tone was short and sharp and that made the Norwegian silent for a while, and Mathias appreciated it for while it lasted to curl up in the foetal position on his bed and try not to think about the other sitting behind him. It was probably strange for him to see, he'd grown up with a bubblier Mathias, more out spoken more prone to trying to be optimistic. However the Mathias he had known was so dosed up on bottles of pills that he couldn't help it, the only thing he'd had in the past year and a half were relaxants.

"What the fuck is wrong with you? You left us." Lukas said after a while, shifting a lot closer than he had been originally. Mathias twitched in on himself, anticipating the inevitable fist that would smack down on him. Instead he got a gentle hand on his arm as a warning and the other male murmured for him to move over and when he did Lukas slipped in behind him and wrapped an arm around his waist. "You're an idiot you know that? Stupid, reckless-"

"Wow I can see you really missed me there Lukas. Now I'm trying to sleep."

"Roll over."

"No."

"I said roll over."

Growling under his breath Mathias complied and turned to bored his own stare into the depths of the other's, they were both all awkward angles and gangly limbs. Lukas' fringe covered half his face and he kept trying to adjust it with half assed effort. Silently Mathias dug around in his pockets, a hair clip that had been given to him from the girl with the brown hair and pretty eyes in the shape of a cross and smiling lightly, reassuringly, he clipped back what he could from their angle and let his hands fall back to his sides.

He wasn't expecting tears to spring fourth in the other teenager's eyes or for loosely fisted hands to pathetically punch at his chest. "YOU'RE A FUCKING IDIOT WHY DID YOU LEAVE ME HERE WITH ALL THESE A-"

The Dane slapped a hand over the other's mouth and pulled him in close, the smell of soap and shampoo nearly overriding the Norwegian's natural scent. He pressed kisses to the crown of his head, apologies coming out as a mumble and a slur. For a week it was the same thing every night, the two of them eventually settling to silence and Lukas didn't ask about anything for that stretch of time. Only after he did, did the late night coddling stop.

"What happened to you Mathias, you're different." He said on the final night, the two of them bare and pressed against each other pleasantly. "You don't look happy."

"Do you want me to be honest."

"Please."

He smiled tightly and shrugged. Rolling onto his back and peeling his arms away he looked up to the ceiling trying to find a way to word his answer. "I'm stuck between the fine line of reality and the dreaming word and...oh god it's tastes so fucking sweet." His bark of laughter sounded empty.

"How did you survive as long as you did being that poetic?" Lukas pressed, rolling to sit on his knees. "You haven't said anything."

He shook his head, he wouldn't tell him that as soon as he was fifteen he took it upon himself to go from bed to bed for a place to sleep, how he learnt to fight from the girl once Berwald left, how he went to any means to find something to eat. How he envied and despised his original companion for leaving as easily as he did, Mathias watching from the cracks of the walls as the younger blonde left with his head hung and his expression grim. He remember how Berwald had talked about missing Tino, how he would go back if he was in danger, or brought up or anything really.

He envied that.

When he refused to say anything Lukas scowled and continued on to ears that refused to hear until he grew tired and lashed out, his pent up anger getting the best of him as he screamed at the Dane to say something.

As soon as he got off the bed and stormed out did Mathias grab his pillow and smother it over his head, entertaining the notion of suffocating himself as he screamed into the mattress and was brought back to a dark place he'd been fending off as his throat was scraped raw by his shriek.

xx

A month afterwards Berwald confronted him, a confrontation that ended badly as soon as Mathias threw a hit towards the Swede's nose and had him reeling back as blood seeped between his fingers. His outburst cost him a black eye and a cut lip and the friendship that had already been strained enough as he was restrained and Berwald was dragged away passed out with broken limbs. Mathias, silent and smiling sat in an office at the back of the school while adults in their middle ages and black suits talked amongst themselves.

"We're putting him in."

"He's not old enough."

"And he could be useful. He took down Oxenstierna faster than Braginski."

"Have you seen his file?"

"What's wrong with him?"

"Mild schizophrenia, bipolar disorder..what was the other one?"

"Psychotic depression sir."

"We could use that."

"Perhaps sir."

He looked up at them expectantly, bored and a little restless but growing some interest as they talked about him as if he weren't there. The words they said were the long ones he'd been told when he was younger and didn't understand, now he understood them in their entire and sat up a little straight with a frown. That's how everybody had started to act around him, gossip spreading where he could hear it, criticism well within earshot and rumours whispered in passing. He didn't care as some were true and some were not but he didn't wish to change what people thought, it wasn't his business anyway. They sent him out not much longer after, thanking him for his time.

He'd gotten into his first proper relationship during that time, a model with sharp features and an even sharper tongue than the last girl he'd ever really been close to. She was pencil thin, hair long and pale, gorgeous features and a tad bit possessive but he didn't mind. He went with her everywhere, when she needed to get photos taken, when she went to classes, to lunch, and even to bed she'd begun to request he read to her a little which he found a bit strange but went with it anyway. If she was happy he could pretend to be and that's all he really cared about at that point. She'd also been the one that got him his first job that got him on the cover of every magazine as he grew older. They'd broken up once she went back to her home country and he continued on through school life and the strange training he was receiving with the label 'easy' slapped onto his forehead. True he'd done everything with a large population with the people, but once again it was just a way to not think about everything.

His wealth came from old money and the men in suits who sent him to the army a few months after his fight with Berwald. Well he thought it was, the protocols were strange, the stark black uniforms stranger still as opposed to the usual uniforms he thought the army wore. And the training was intense but it gave him something to focus on from all the politics of school.

When he left for the real world with a job he hadn't expected to be handed, a bank account that had him giddy with glee and a side job that elevated his popularity, did he really start to feel the weight of the world come crawling back onto his shoulders and along with it the pills he'd been swallowing since he'd been young.

Mathias wasn't alone but he still felt lonely.

xxx

He sat perched on the edge of the table, legs folded underneath him with new reading material and sniffling into a tissue, cursing the common cold for all he could between reading line after line, word after word and took inspiration in the linguistics. Mathias looked up from his page briefly as his Dutch counterpart came in, half asleep and eyes heavy as he tried to look at his phone.

"It's five am." Mathias said on cue, lips twitching at the rise of an eyebrow before he went back to the novel. "What are you doing up so early?"

"Dunno." Lars grunted, shuffling over to the fridge. Left over cake and orange marinated chicken from the night before sat at the very back behind boxed of Carlsberg and the Dane barely registered the sound of things behind moved around. "It's not good to read in the dark."

"The sun's coming up. It's not entirely dark." And true as it were, warm light spilled across the hotel room floors and manipulated the forms of shadows against the white walls. Fresh air breezed through the open windows and the curtains barely fluttered along with the disturbance. "You should go back to bed."

"You should actually go to bed."

"Not tired."

"You will be later."

"Nothing coffee can't fix." He smiled and set his book down, given up on trying to process the life of written characters. "Do you feel like we've met before Frankfurt?"

"Why?" The expression that crossed his face confirmed yes.

"Just asking."

He never forgot the boy with bloodshot and glassy eyes that were a mesmerising shade of green with his hair struggling to defy gravity and suspiciously smelt like marijuana that he'd obviously tried to mask with some cheap deodorant but was considerate enough to join the Dane in his lonesome seat at the back of a class room. He bore the same scars as he did when he'd leant across to hand him the note and he felt bad for the boy who's name he didn't find out until the last minute and made him feel less alone.

That was the first time he met Lars.


	8. falling into the sun

ah such cute people reviewing this thank you so much guys! They always make my day and put a huge smile on my face UwU  
I can't exactly remember where I was going with this chapter but -shrugs- there's a nsfw warning up ahead but it's pretty mild tbh  
hope you guys are having a lovely week feel free to leave your thoughts and comments!

**Intro - The XX**

* * *

He was confused to say the least when he walked in to see Mathias with his legs crossed under him and a nostalgic expression lingering on the edge of blankness. His eyes were misted over and did not flicker over the pages of his book indicating what ever he was thinking about took him somewhere else entirely. And throughout the morning it remained after that strange question that left Lars himself a little more than confused and suspicious but he kept quiet and continued to go about eating left over cake and talking animatedly to ears that didn't seem to hear a word.

Lars watched during the morning as Mathias fiddled with his shirt sleeves, seeming to be torn between rolling them up to bare forearms that wore marks the Dutchman long since knew about and pulling them down past his hands. Eventually his expression grew too heavy and his eyes too tight and he was itching to ask the Dane what was running through that head of his.

"What's wrong?" When he didn't answer he tapped his cheek and repeated the question when he had his attention. "_What's wrong Mat?_"

"Nothing sorry I'm just a bit." Mathias waved a hand over his own face and smiled. "Out of it you were saying?"

"You've looked like this since I woke up."

"I'm just tired." He sighed and slumped forward. "I left my pills in Frankfurt."

"Oh um..." Everything he'd ever taught his students or learnt during university went straight out of his head leaving him staring dumbly at the blonde. "Do you want to get some...more I'm sure somewhere sells them."

He shook his head, mumbling into his arms. "I've got something stronger it'll last for a couple of days but it's..."

"Illegal?"

"Yeah." Came the breathy reply. "Don't worry I'll feel better with some fresh air or something. Show me everything your home has to offer."

He inclined his head towards the window and Mathias smiled, hopping down from the table eerily silent as he hit the ground and padded over. When he was within reach Lars pushed a joint between his lips. "Something a little less stronger but it won't fuck you up as bad."

"You're so good to me." Mathias chuckled before slipping through the window and taking his seat on the very edge. Lars followed suit.

They sat on the windowsill, staring down at the drop beneath their feet with a strange satisfaction. It was dizzying the way the ground was so far away and they were so high up and how the slightest lack of balance would have them gone in a matter of seconds. Their fingers were linked together as they looked out at the city, the odd car glinting the reflection of the sun back up at them and the seemingly hundreds of bikes flooding the streets. Mathias mumbled about how fragile everything was and voiced Lars' exact thoughts when he continued on to say how quickly it could all end, it probably wasn't the safest idea to have the Dane somewhere so...tempting almost when he was in that state of mind.

Mathias smiled when Lars nervously asked how he felt, he felt as if he were rooted to the spot just by the contact of their hands and it was unbelievably sappy and dare Lars think cute. He watched from the corner of his eye as the Dane took his relaxation from something a little less illegal than what he already had as a support and blew the sweet smelling and tasting smoke out to mingle with the air, he kicked his legs back and forth, three quarter sweat pants his protection from the wind and obviously the thin singlet wasn't doing much for his upper body from how he trembled but he didn't complain. Lars himself was wrapped up warmly, using the same relaxant as the other in his own separate share.

"Don't you just have the urge to jump?" Mathias whispered in wonder, his eyes getting wider the longer he kept his gaze down.

"Right now? Nee. I'm enjoying my company too much."

The wind continued to blow their ash around even after they'd finished their tubes of the drug and gently nudging the Dane he pulled him inside and away from the ever so alluring ledge that has his companion mumbling about death so quietly he had to strain to hear it.

xxx

He eyed up the board resting in the crook of the Dane's arms wearily. He himself hadn't ever really skateboarded even when he was younger he found bikes a lot more comfortable and he was sort of hoping at the back of his head somewhere that Mathias would have the same thoughts on the matter but...he was proved wrong when he pulled on seemingly out of no where and stated he wouldn't weigh Lars' bike down more than he already had been if he had his own mode of transport. True it'd be easier to carry around but...

Eh. He needed to get a lid on his neuroticism.

He shook his head in resignation as they left, the sound of the wheels clicking against the pavement before Mathias was standing perfectly straight and smoothly weaving his way down the street, he had to peddle quickly to catch up. Occasionally he'd tell him where to turn a corner, trying to remember exactly how to get where they were going but it was like pushing through muddy water in his thoughts until they actually got to a point that looking familiar. The train station was bustling with people and mutedly he tried to tell Mathias about it, the smile on his face and the laugh that came with it were worth his efforts, his voice much too low to be heard over everybody else who kept bumping into them or snarling under their breath when they wouldn't move because Mathias would be standing entirely still with his camera to his eye taking photo after photo. Staring the Dane down for a while afterwards he ended with an eye roll and brought their tickets. Afterwards when it had arrived and they were sitting side by side with Mathias glued to the window as he watched the scenery, as he was going through his wallet he noticed double the sum he'd paid had been slipped in beside his I.D. He didn't need to ask, the nod that came from the blonde was more than enough conformation.

And eventually after a lot of trial and error.  
They fucking got there without Mathias breaking something on that board much to Lars' relief once they'd gotten on the streets.

Water from the docks washed against the bricks that contained it all with quiet sloshes as they came to a stop right outside one of the cramped buildings. And Mathias, sitting down on the curb beside Lars' trying to light a smoke and talk at the same time had ceased his chatter all together once he realised it was becoming one sided. Rather he took up contorting himself in ways Lars didn't even think possible to capture more of the scenery and people with his camera lens. The Dutchman smiled to himself, trying not to reflect on any happy thoughts that came with the place but in the end found himself sitting beside his friend and doing exactly that while he filled his pipe.

"It was the last flat Alice and I had before she talked me into moving with her to Frankfurt." Lars said before Mathias could ask. "The university here...has a lot of opportunity when it comes to what area I wanted to go into so we lived here just while I got my BA and she did her own thing. Economic things I didn't really ask much about it."

"Leiden's really pretty." Mathias muttered, his head moving to rest on the brunette's shoulder as he puffed out smoke. "You were born here weren't you?"

Lars nodded. "We moved to the rural areas when our parents died...and then to Amsterdam for secondary."

The Dane made a noise at the back of his throat that sounded like an agreement and something else. His fingers fiddled with the ends of Lars' scarf with his lips pursed as if in deep thought and just as Lars was about to ask the question he felt he'd been asking since he'd met the other he smiled and pressed his face against his shoulder to protect himself from the sun and wind.

"Amsterdam is lovely too." His camera was held out in front of them both and he felt Mathias twist his head to look into it. "Smile."

When he did the camera clicked numerous times until the point it grew ridiculous and he was laughing, he couldn't and didn't understand why but it seemed like it was perfect for the moment and the shaking coming from the other indicated he was in a similar state. They sat staring up at the building for a little while longer while tourists, citizens and students strolled past, occasionally flashing the pair an odd look and some recognising the blonde or perhaps both of them on the curb with their feet in the gutters.

"Should we get going?" Lars said. "I've got a few more places I'd like to show you."

Mathias nodded and rose to his feet, joints in his knees cracking from sitting in the same position for too long and he lend a hand down to the Dutchman to take to pull him up.

"Lead the way."

They went to the park, to the libraries and to the university. The entirety of the time consisting of Mathias trying to get photos of everything he could or clinging onto Lars' hand. And for Lars, he was smiling as he spoke, the expression still feeling odd but under the happy atmosphere his companion was carrying he couldn't help but join in on the blissful feeling...and well express it on top of that. They hardly talked unless it was about Lars' past for once, the Dane listening intently and nodding along with what he said until something caught his eye and had him running to capture it with a quick click and a flash. His attitude at the park was almost identical as it had been the first time they visited the one in Hesse, the rise and fall of his moods entrancing and scary at times when he spoke of how he felt such sonder for the things around him until he fell entirely quiet again after he voiced his opinion on Lars' voice sounding _sonorous_ of all things.

Lars laughed at the long and complicated words that came from the man who looked like he would be more focused on his appearance than the meaning of words, but he took pleasure it in. If anything Mathias carried the honeyed tones of sonority better than he did, especially when he was so fluid with his use of words. He didn't know what caused them to start rolling around the grass, flowers being crushed under their combined body weight as they play fought. Mathias despite his lanky limbs contained a strength that upped Lars by a lot and had him pinned in seconds with the Dane grinning over him in triumph. After walking away with aching legs and places that were sure to bruise the Dutchman surrendered, contemplating where the hell Mathias hid that strength. They ended up sitting on one of the benches on the riverside, the Dane again curled at his side except this time with Lars' combing his fingers through the almost gel stiff locks of hair. When his fingers brushed along the skin of the other's forehead was he able to feel the ridged lines that carved into his skin. Frowning he continued the petting for a while longer until he felt them again and his frown deepened.

"What's wrong?"

"Hm? Oh uh nothing just thinking." A chuckle vibrated against the Dutchman's thigh. "It's like a paradise here, it's so still."

"Most of the screaming children would have gone home by now."

Another laugh, more audible than the other was felt against his leg and Mathias smothered his face against the denim. "Do you want kids?"

"God no. Too much work plus I already have you."

"Takk." Mathias moved around again so he was looking up at the Dutchman through sleepy eyes. "I don't either. I'd hate to try and raise somebody in this world."

xxx

They'd long since arrived back in the capital to get back in time to catch dinner somewhere. Mathias' chin rose from the table, his eyes turning dark as they flickered around behind the Dutchman. Curses and profanities spewed from his lips as he rose and before Lars could ask what was wrong he looked down at him, expression one of pure panic before he twisted his mouth up into a shaking smile and pressed a kiss to the Dutchman's forehead.

"I'll meet you back at the hotel okay? Just try to get there quickly."

"Why?"

"I think somebody's been following us."

"Let me go with you if you get hu-"

"It's to do with me not you." Lars felt the loss of Mathias' mouth moving against his skin as he spoke when he pulled away. "I'll see you soon yeah?"

Hesitantly he nodded and Mathias tossed him his wallet before stalking off with a cheery goodbye.  
When he got back to the hotel he was surprised to say the least to hear the sound of running water and without much thought he pushed through the slightly ajar bathroom door and stared down blankly at the blonde who was still fully clothed save for his jacket and shoes and was sitting at the bottom of the shower with his arms wrapped around his knees, clasping onto a bottle of vodka and his hair stuck to his forehead. The scabbing on his lips had been reopened and the previously torn up state of his knuckles made an appearance again as if he'd been punching walls out of anger. Lars wouldn't put it past him.

Instead of stripping down he abandoned his shoes and jacket and slipped in beside him, an arm slipping around the back of Mathias' neck to draw him in close. It was hard to tell under the rush of water but he could have sworn the other male was crying. Streaks of red swirled in the water and down the drain, coming too quickly for Lars to say it was just the damage of his knuckles and lip.

"Did you know if you drink enough alcohol it almost tastes like love?" He slurred from between his knees, his voice sounding hoarse and it cracked between syllables. "And sanity."

He didn't ask about the other source of blood, the knowledge was already there and frowning slightly he tucked Mathias' head under his chin and held him until the heat of the water became unbearable and made him light headed. Rising carefully he pulled the Dane up to his feet and still holding him as tightly as he could plugged the drain and ran the bath. Mathias looked at him, eyes empty but head tilted in confusion and silently with a gesture Lars asked for permission before getting the other out of his clothes. Mathias swallowed thickly and nodded, raising his arms up at their sides us Lars pushed buttons through the holes of his shirt, noting how a few were already missing, and moved down to his trousers. He left the room for a moment afterwards to let the Dane do the rest out of respect.

He ducked in briefly to pick up the Dane's wet clothes and throw them along side his in the wash, however Mathias stood bare looking into the water as it overflowed and his arms hanging limply at his side. Exasperated he drained half the tub, cleaned up the mess on the floor and aided the Dane into the bathwater with a bottle of shower gel on his lap before he left again to change into warmer clothes and tidy what he could of the room before he swallowed his pride and went back in to check on the blonde.

His knees were brought up to his chest again and his hands made shapes out of the bubbles floating alongside his pale calves, Mathias hummed to himself tunelessly as he lost himself to his own thoughts. Lars sunk to his knees and pressed his head against the edge of the bath. Rolling up his sleeves he dipped his hand in the water to link his fingers through Mathias' immobile hand and sat there for what felt like an eternity.

"Have you heard of the enchanted river?" The voice came as a whisper, Lars had to strain to hear the other speak but he shook his head in response. "It's in the Philippines rumour has it nobody has ever reached the bottom. The clarity of it changes depending on the time of day I ah...I went once and just sat there watching it for ages it's really pretty."

"I'll have to look it up." He murmured back, voice shaking in his fear of breaking the tranquillity blanketing them.

"I'll take you there one day." The water shifted and a hand wormed it's way into Lars' still damp hair, stoking through the locks lightly. "It's amazing in depth...kind of like you. You're a deep thinker I like that."

"You are too."

"It's not the same. Mine's just...mental illness talking half the time." He turned to press his chest against the edge of the bath and ran his fingers down he edge of Lars' jaw. "Yours...you're scared of so much but you're brave at the same time, like you have a lid on it until it gets too much. That's strength. It's nice. You're nice. And refreshing. Better than a cup of coffee. More addictive too. You make me feel like I have some humanity still."

Again he repeated. "You are too." Lars tried not to let his eyes fall down on the angry lines marring the other's skin. "Addictive that it."

"Are you going to stay?" The question came quickly.

"Are you scared of me going?"

"Yes."

"Then I will."

He washed his hair and back for him, cupping his hands to rinse it all off before he pulled his out of the tube and wrapped him up in a towel, instructing him to get changed like he was child. And perhaps he was, a childlike wonder for dangerous things and incapable to do things when it began to get too difficult in his head. He pulled the plug and stood leaning up against the wall as he watched the water gurgle down the drain feeling his energy going along with it.

Lars was almost grateful to see the other male dry and in his pyjamas, perched on the edge of his bed as he turned music up on his laptop and sunk back into the pillows. His hollow smile was haunting, even as he held a hand up to latch onto Lars' sleeve and drag him down onto the mattress beside him. They lay beside each other, letting the singers voice wash over them as they stared at the ceiling and Mathias' fingers danced down the length of the Dutchman's arm to hold onto his hand again like an anchor.

The silence between them was heavy, eerie until Mathias said something that sent shard of ice through Lars' veins.

"Am I alive?"

xxx

"You know I hate the outdoors, which is funny considering how much time I've spent out there but..." Mathias leant in real close, his hands clasped on either side of the Dutchman's face and he positively beamed. "Your eyes are making me reconsider that. They're just so fucking pure you know it's like they can't settle between rich pine or grass they're just so _green_. How does that even happen? Like your sister has nice eyes but they're kinda flat until you get her in bed but you...Shit they're always so intense."

Lars stayed rooted to the spot, stiller than a statue and feeling as if the other were digging right into the darker corners of his depths of his soul with his stare. He opened his mouth as he tried to find words, a thank you or a question or a statement that died as soon as it met his throat.

"Sometimes when I was at work I'd just go and find a forest or something you know to try and remember the colour but it just isn't the same. Not as clear. Too much dirt around whereas your irises are the clearest things I've seen in my life."

"This is getting a little obsessive here."

"Shut up I've seen your notebook, you've described my eyes and my hair and my skin and my voice in a million different ways give me a break."

Panic settled in his bones until he saw the other's warm smile that finally met his eyes that he had indeed written a description for in ever way he could. Pinching his nails into his palms he looked down and shrugged sheepishly. The only couple in the coffeeshop looked at them worriedly but eventually continued on in their conversation when Lars shot them a glare. Mathias sunk back into his seat looking proud with himself as he finished off his coffee and curled his feet around the middle of Lars' calves. He raised an eyebrow to which Mathias just rolled his eyes and tugged him closer with the position he had until Lars bumped painfully against the edge of the table.

"Can we go shopping?"

"That's what we did all of yesterday."

"Yeah but like I want to buy you things."

"Mat-"

"Come on it'll be fun."

"I hate peopl-"

"I'll buy you one sweater. One. Okay if that will appease your stingy-ness and I'll get a matching one it'll be cute."

He sighed and nodded. Soon finding himself being dragged away from their half eaten brunch to thrift shop after thrift shop on his own mindless direction. He was thankful that on their last half day in his home country he could enjoy the warmth of the other against his back again and the risk of broken bones was lessened no matter how quick Mathias' reflexes apparently were. In each shop came Mathias throwing sweater after sweater in his direction and making him change into them, each one too big and with some hideous design until he asked if they could just get something plain that he wouldn't feel like ripping to shreds.

Lars always had mixed feelings when it came to second hand clothing, one it was always cheap so his wallet wouldn't be weeping in his back pocket but...Other people...had worn it...before him...He was thankful the Dane noticed his discomfort and made a promise to wash what they brought as soon as they were back at the hotel. So after seemingly dozens of shops they left with their spoils on the back of their shared bike and again he was able to fully appreciate the weight of the blonde.

Back in their hotel room with the sound of the dryer rattling in the next room over the sound of their movie, some generic action movie with too many explosions and shitty acting did they relax entirely into the worn down couches. Well 'relaxed' was a bit of a stretch. Mathias slid onto his lap, arms curling around his neck as he littered kisses from the beginning of his jaw to the corner of his lips, light pecks that the Dutchman had long since began to be accustomed to. However when their lips met it was deep, a slow melding of lips that grew faster until they were all but panting into each other's mouths and the Dane's fingers were gripping tight in his hair. The air between them was thick when they broke apart from a breath, their eyes equally as heavy however Mathias' bore and underlying confusion that Lars didn't look at for long as he buried his face into the other's neck, pushing the fabric of his jersey out of the way and sucked his mark into his skin. The Dane tipped his head back, a happy purr like sigh leaving him at the attention.

The Dane feel silent above him, his breathing quickly becoming ragged through his nose the longer the Dutchman kept his mouth plastered to the skin just over his jugular, the harder he forced his mouth to work in the rich red of broken capillaries in a blotchy line. When he tipped his head up, tongue still hanging past his lips a string of spittle connected the tip of his tongue to the bruising canvas he had been working into.

Lars watched in unadulterated wonder as Mathias slid between his legs and limply rested his cheek against the tenting in his trousers, his bottom lip rubbed against the denim as he nuzzled in, tongue unrolling out to curl around his zipper.

"Whoa no, no, no it's fine. You don't have to..."

"I do..." His voice split. "I do have to."

"No Mat please don't push yourself..." His voice died off when vacant eyes flickered up to him, and trying not to linger on the fact his greatest fear came true he smiled weakly and pulled the other back up to his knee. "Really. You don't."

"But I need to repay-"

"This isn't a business deal. It's fine." Lars smoothed his hands down the Dane's arms in what he hoped to me a soothing gesture.

"You called me Mat."

"I did?"

"Yeah...it's nice." Mathias left his spot on the other's lap and trailed off to his suitcase, rifling around until he found what he was looking for and with a sheepish smile he gave the Dutchman a warning while he wrapped a belt around his upper arm. "I uh need something a bit stronger."

Lars nodded once and made his hasty exit from the room as a needle pricked through the Dane's pale forearm. Making use of the now dry pullover he slipped it over his head and took to curling up in the middle of the bed and drowned out the sounds of Mathias' curses with the heaviness of exhaustion.

_He dreamt of his lips being pressed to Italian leather that was attached to one of those thin yet toned legs of the Dane who smiled down at him lazily. On either side of Mathias were the four unwelcome visitors from months earlier and had not been mentioned since, he was surprised he even remembered their faces. Reaching down Mathias ran his fingers through his hair and shook his head. His voice sounding like static in the Dutchman's ears. **Don't do that my friend, you're not lower than me by any means.**_

_The longer he stared into the wolf's grin and the distorting face of the other male he found himself unbelievably believing that indeed. They were equals._

_And as his eyes flickered to the glinting sheen of the gold and red crown that sat nestled in the Dane's hair he was overwhelmed with an undeniable pleasure. _

"Mathias...the fuck are you doing?" Lars huffed, eyes cracked open sleepily. A wet tongue pressed against the fabric of his briefs sloppily, mouth open and panting hard against the bulging fabric, rubbing his eyes and propping himself up with his elbows he looked down open mouthed.

"Shut up and enjoy it. Just repaying the favour you wouldn't let me before." He patted the other's hip until the Dutchman, sleepy and disorientated pulled his briefs away unthinkingly. He barely had time to register the way Mathias' eyes grew wide and his tongue flicked out to wet his lips before his mouth was on his cock and sweet-merciful-jesus-fuck-where-did-he-learn-to-do -that-with-his-tongue. Sinking back down to the pillows he tipped his head back and rolled his hips up into the mouth that swallowed him down with ease, the tip bumping against the back of Mathias' throat undoubtedly uncomfortably but really he couldn't find it in himself to give two shits as he was being lavished with attention so perfectly with the same mouth he'd been fantasising about for nearly a year. A leg curled around to press the heel of his foot into the pronounced dip between Mathias' shoulder blades and he press down in time with the bobbing of his head. He tried to keep as silent as possible, teeth ripping into his lips as Mathias's name threatened to drip off his tongue.

He almost lost it when the Dane hollowed his cheeks around his length and sucked hard, swapping between suction and twisting his head down to the base and Lars' toes curled and tensed every time he felt his dick slide down that throat. The faintest scratching of teeth along the underside was what brought him to his sudden and unexpected release, a shout in the form of the blonde's name on his lips and he foggily realised his hands were screwed tight in the other's hair to keep him in place. His semen was swallowed down without a protest from Mathias, and what wasn't caught leaked from the corners of his lips as he pulled off.

Then he started laughing. And laughing and laughing until the Dane was brought to tears. Lars, confused and a little hurt rolled over onto his stomach and hid his face in his pillows. Suddenly Mathias wormed his way onto his back and started massaging the Dutchman's shoulders tenderly, still chuckling under his breath, or lack of, until it died down to nothing while Lars was still being lavished with attention. Which seemed a bit backwards to Lars but he didn't say anything as they delved into blissful silence.

That was until Mathias began his snickering again. "You look really cute when you're getting head, you like...go all red and glassy eyed it's adorable."

"Shut up Mathias the quiet was nice."

"I mean you're even silent. I've never met somebody who was silent before it's sort of worrying. Did I do a shit job?"

His voice sounded as if he were utterly heart broken and worryingly Lars tried to roll over but another obnoxious chuckle emitted from the Dane who placed his knees overtop of his hands and prevented him from moving. "I know I didn't. That was the quickest anybody's ever cum as well with my mouth."

"You're kind of intense."

"You're kind of adorable."

"Very funny."

"No seriously you're like all grumpy looking most of the time until you smile and then you get these dimples and your eyes go all bright and happy and yeah you're adorable."

He had dimples and he was well aware of that and he was never ever smiling again after that reminder. "Mathias. Where do we go after this?"

"Back to Frankfurt I suppose."

"Back to normal."

"I'm afraid so." Mathias sat back, regret etched into his face. "My job ah...doesn't allow me to have relationships."

"Why's that?"

"It's silly to be attached to somebody like me Lars." The Dane rolled over onto his back and held his hands up above him, fingers outstretched before falling into fists onto his chest. "Stupid and idiotic but...I guess it's too late for you hm?"

"Much."

He was so attached to the translucent and forever masked Dane who felt like home and something entirely different. His dreams were birthed from how he imagined Mathias in another life and he felt like even in sleeping he would need to request mouth to mouth to give him air and bring him back to life from every single nearly heart attack inducing moment spent in the other's company. They sat together for a while, Lars catching his breath with each deep inhale and Mathias appearing to be listening to every exhale. Eventually they had to leave, their bags already beside the door and tips left on the table alongside them and with one last sorrowful goodbye they departed.

And every single good memory was left behind with it.


	9. the whole world burning from within

Aaaaah you guys are so sweet sorry for taking so long I was at a loss for inspiration  
aaaanyway that aside this chapter is far from cute  
sorry (':  
i'll make it up to you guys in the next chapter i swear i just had a craving for a little drama forgive me ;u; 

**LSD dream theatre - XXYYXX**

* * *

"Is it even safe to stop and start those again?" Lars said, worried as Mathias knocked back a handful of tablets and chased it all down with a shot.

"Probably not but whatever it's better to keep me off the illegal stuff for now." He smiled and spun the cap of his bottles back on before pushing past the Dutchman. "You never know what might set me off, anyway I ave to go look over some things I'll be back in a couple of hours."

"Mathias."

"Hm?"

"What happens to us now?" His voice cracked on the last word, unsure and uneasy and wishing he could just gulp back down the words that spewed freely from his lips.

Mathias' smile was bitter and his eyes were empty as he left out the front door and left Lars choking on his words, was he going to complain? Protest? Question him further? He couldn't remember and numbly after watching the cool façade slip back into place on the Dane he slumped forward till his head hit the edge of the door and curled his fingers at his sides into loose fists, still trying to sort through the happenings of the weekend before. He had work the next day, students to teach things he'd long since memorised and tutors to animatedly converse with to pass the time during lunch. As of late however he'd found himself in the usually empty art room with a blank sheet of paper and paint to symbolise whatever bullshit was raging in his head.

And yet here he was, somebody who spoke for a living, left speechless and feeling as if emotion wasn't a thing to truly exist in that moment. Things had gone back to normal, to how they were before Amsterdam, before Mathias started being close to affectionate. There was distance forming again between him and Mathias and a cold voice was in his ear whispering 'fuck you'. As soon as he was left entirely alone the pride he'd swallowed to enable him to smile with ease, to express himself through emotions rather than scrawled words on paper and angered sketches was crawling it's way out of his mouth and completely abandoning him.

Banging his head a few times against the door frame he gritted his teeth and cursed himself for being so foolish. Of course it would be all business as soon as they got back, of course it was nothing more than Mathias going through the notions. The last three days would be nothing more than fond memories. Memories that would die as quickly as they were birthed and were nothing more than something of the past and he was ALONE.

alonealonealonealonealonesofuckingalone

Lars could feel a panic attack prickling under his skin and chewing the inside of his lip until it broke he took deep breaths and tried to root himself back to earth and get a grip on the overwhelming anxiety that was hammering him weak. He was thinking too much into it, maybe it would be better once Mathias was adjusted to his pills again, maybe he'd be all smiles and open affection once he was back in the apartment, maybe he was just tired.

No he had to stop thinking.

Shuffling back to his room he plugged himself into his music and set up his own self medication, smoke burning his lungs and swimming in his head until he was calm and the chanting and numerous voices died down to nothing. He could focus on one thing or nothing at all if he chose and after finishing off his bowl he opened the window and leaned up against the wall to watch the cars driving by at snails pace below him, everything looking miniature and people resembling scampering ants. He saw the rain clouds before they rolled in and ruined the summer warmth as sudden as the gust of wind that rustled tree branches. The smell of rain against cement trickled in through the crack of his window and breathing as steadily as he could he brought himself back to earth and away from the demons that raged in his head and smiled to himself.

He was in a state of frustration at how long it was taking him to get know Mathias, he was cryptic when he appeared so open about himself. But what he showed contradicted how he spoke and how he would turn out in moments of weakness. After so long of subsequent conversation, the result of weeks of trying to push through Mathias' psychological walls he was still stuck in square one as stories that could be found on websites or newspapers was revised back to him like it was something that had been memorised and repeated many times before. He was confusing he was strange and he was fucking with Lars head more than the Dutchman would like to admit. His own head fuck that danced back and forth until he was so far away Lars wasn't able to reach him or so close that they were sharing the same air. Lars was selfish at times when it came to how his idealistic views of getting to know people, with Mathias he would have preferred to have started prying into the deepest secrets he held and then worked out to the materialistic shell but rather...

He was left awkwardly in love and starved of knowledge for too long.

But he carried the fear that learning what he didn't know would ruin everything, and rapidly change the image of a lucky passing of a stranger, or rather a head on collision, into one less mystery to keep him on edge. It was strange the way they met, comfortable and familiar like a itch he couldn't scratch. It would have been more fitting in a perfect world if they'd been acquainted through a flirtatious glance, or a shared amusement at some odd coincidence or hell even a sympathetic nod that in that perfect world would be fleeting and out of the blue but would still hold a powerful emotional current that would draw them to each other rather than the forces of some cruel god forcing them to walk head on into each other's paths. Perhaps he didn't want to know despite how much he truly did. And the fact that he was so desperate to not let the presence of the Dane become a conceptual husk, he would not learn a thing. He was as confused about everything as he was when he was only a child and he was told mummy and daddy were gone and wouldn't be coming back. With time he was fine with understanding that, however with this. This was something he either needed to understand Mathias all in one go or not understand him at all.

Cupid was irresponsible and he was fucking exhausted of being used like target practise but he would entertain the little shit for as long as it so wished. Closing his eyes he tried to pull in the oxygen from outside rather than the drug strangled and stale air of his bedroom and when he felt calm enough, still with his eyes firmly closed he moved to collapse on his bed, mentally and entirely emotionally drained of energy. For those short few seconds it was easy to ignore his infatuation.

He barely noticed the fact he fell head first into somebody's legs and when he gasped down a mouthful of cologne ready for a shriek he immediately fell silent at the sweetness and wrapped his arms around his best friend's waist, uncaring of how he got in but was more than thankful that the English bastard had.

"Your flatmate told me it was still unlocked on his way down, that's how." Arthur cut through the quiet.

He didn't remember voicing his thoughts but shrugged it off anyway and forced himself to let go and roll onto his stomach on the other end of the mattress.

"This is a one time thing alright Lars."

"I don't give a fuck to be honest."

Arthur lay beside him and hugged him close and when he thought he was thankful for him being there he was more than thankful that the bodily contact and willing hug was proof enough as it is that he wasn't just imagining another person in his attempt to eradicate his athazagoraphobia.

"It's alright, you're not alone."

And he fell asleep to the exact words he'd muttered to Mathias a little more than a day before. Amniotic tranquillity sweetly lulled him to rest as ran pattered against the windows and the continued sentences from the English man had become muffled and unintelligible to his sleepy ears.

xxx

When he was up again at the crack of dawn and his first words to the grumbling Englishmen were concerning Mathias did he find himself kicked out of his own bed and snapped at to get changed and that they were getting a fresh gust of clean air. Well as clean as city air could be.

He walked sluggishly down the stairs and onto the deathly quiet streets with Arthur at his side explaining how he got him an extra day off work to right himself. He showed his gratitude in a sincere laugh before they continued on and he constantly tried to rub the sleep out of his eyes and the scowl off his lips. In the morning he was still wrapped up in the pressing weight of the awareness that even the man he'd known for years had a private life and his own mysterious hallways of his own personality that he wasn't even able to trek into and undoubtedly somebody else would have. It was maddening to remain to ignorant to such things, everybody around him was wrapped up in their own little worlds and he only knew the snippets of them.

"So what had you looking so bummed out earlier?" Arthur said around a stick of nicotine gum. Lars smiled at his determination to quit the smoking habit, knowing his short moody little friend it wouldn't last more than a week. In this day and age everybody had an addiction.

"Anxiety attack."

"Did you remember your exercises?"

"Lasted all of three secon-"

"You went straight to the bong didn't you."

"Pretty much." He smiled behind his scarf and tucked his hands into his coat as they turned a corner. "It worked though. I feel better."

"It's a stupid habit." It came out under Arthur's breath yet it was still loud enough for the Dutchman to hear.

"So's being attached to your work."

"And look where it got me."

"Blah blah blah."

"Don't fucking test me you brat."

"Want me to get you your rag Miss Kirkland?" He smother his laugh with his teeth on his tongue when he saw Arthur's glare from the corner of his eye. "You seem to be having a heavy flow month, you know how you get when you don't look after yourself during this time it's rather dangerous to all mankind."

He was shoved irritably into a wall before they continued on further, silence stretching between them and blurring into the quiet click of shoe on pavement and the odd morning bird starting it's song. The eerie, forlorn atmosphere of the streets that were usually bustling with people remained abandoned and quiet appeared like an emotional after-image that was not just empty in first place but hyper-empty. The population negative plus two that appeared like black spots to anybody who would look out a window against the lightening pavement. He was quiet in his own thoughts as he grew entranced and unsettled by the vastness of the ever ending streets, and even if he wanted to go further the universe that contained the little world that contained the streets that contained him and his thoughts. The recognition of the sky not just a page of blues and blacks and pinks and oranges bleeding together to create an image to appreciate but an entirely unexplored and unbelievably alien stretch of everythingness that carried things outside of it that would remain foreign. It was a jolt and an ache when he found himself in the same mindset of Mathias who respite his ramblings in moments of vulnerability was still just as alien as the sky he stared up at. Who shared the same predicament on a daily basis as the one he was in now.

Maybe he should have become an astronomer instead of a lecturer of psychology. He was far more adapted and comfortable with ideas of the universe and the worlds and stars that would have been snuffed out if not for the flickering light that illuminated the dark at night time. And just as Mathias had said on one cold night or perhaps on many, those lights were nothing more than late invitations to a gathering that was dead and gone years upon years upon years ago and Earth's atmosphere was only lucky enough to get to see those when a void covered what the sun brought to really shouldn't have been thinking about Mathias at that time. Blinking slowly and shaking himself out of his thoughts he forced himself to re-appreciate the company he shared with the Englishman and the air that they so desperately coveted despite it's pollution it indisputably carried to a degree.

"Lars are you with me?" Arthur said, nudging his arm with his elbow, mouth a scowl and thick eyebrows pulled down with it.

"Hmm oh yeah just daydreaming."

"Potheads these days." They chuckled in unison and Lars sighed out happily at the distraction. That was however until Arthur raised a finger and pointed at a figure wandering around ahead of them."Isn't that Mathias?"

He squinted and upon a few more steps it was confirmed that indeed it was the wild haired and wild eyed blonde leisurely walking towards them who looked glazed over and hazy as he walked along the pavement.

"Yeah it is...MATHIAS!" He yelled towards him and he watched as the male stopped in his tracks and came out of whatever trance he was in to look right ahead at him.

The smile that broke across his face was worth the disruption. He walked quicker until they were face to face, a smile of his own hidden behind the thickness of his scarf yet still he hoped the relief was clear in his voice. The laughter that bubbled from the other perhaps said it was too obvious.

"You've gone bright red like a school girl." Mathias' voice was fond and after taking a few moments to catch his own breath he turned his attention to the shorter male at Lars' side and raised an eyebrow."Mr Kirkland. What a pleasure."

"I don't think we've talked for more than a second. And please, Arthur." The pleasantry between them sounded unbelievably strange on Arthur, and the handshake he offered even queerer. It seemed to be more fitting for an actual English gentleman and not the usually foul mouthed Brit beside him. "The pleasure's all mine."

He seemed too false to be genuine and looking between the two Lars narrowed it down to some form of history and shrugged. Some people had things he'd never know and most of those things were probably better to be kept in the dark.

"Well it looks like your job is done now Arthur. I feel better now and I hope he does too." Mathias' smile was stretched too thin and too far for Lars' liking and still he kept his lips firmly together and forced a laugh at the back of his throat.

"Indeed. I'll see you another time." What Arthur said sounded more like a promise more than a suggestion. A definite.

"Of course. We'll save proper introductions for a better date."

As soon as his friend had left and said his goodbyes Mathias slumped again and ran a hand through his hair, appearing thoroughly tired from the unbelievably quick and business like interaction. Gesturing forward they wandered for a while longer until they were both too lost to try and go further and attempted to retrace their steps.

And still there was no contact or words between them the entire way.

xxx

The door was left open a crack, and before Lars could even push through Mathias shoved him aside and held a finger to lips. The door inched open with barely a hiss and the Dane's hand went into the inner pocket of his coat.

He produced a gun that he held with such confidence Lars was left speechless and a little more than terrified to see.

Mathias then continued through before he could ask about it, silent steps carrying him through to the living room where a single leg was kicked over the end of the couch and was connected to a very bored looking male who was oddly familiar to the Dutchman. Lukas. The Norwegian flicked through papers lazily, barely raising his eyes from the sheets before he spoke in a tongue that went right over Lars' head but had his counterpart locking in place. He had to edge around just a little to see the anger plastered to the Dane's face as he replied back stiffly, when Lukas' eyes locked in on the pistol held between Mathias' hands he said something sharply that had Mathias sighing and slipping it away, inclining his head in a gesture to have Lars nodding jerkily and slipped around and to the kitchen while they talked.

The talking rapidly turned to near yelling and when he curiously looked around the corner Mathias had his hands in fists and a vein protruding in his neck as he snapped and snarled in the smaller male's direction. The twist of a scowl on the Norwegian's lips turned to a smirk when he stared dead on at Lars' and ran his tongue over his teeth. Built-up tension crackled between the two Scandinavians, pent up and begging to be released into something that had the possibility of inspiring senseless violence. And being somewhat aware of the strength Mathias possessed he was quick to revise how it could end up, mending the fences of his uncertainty and simultaneously growing weeds that would strangle every logically thought and cut of the circulation between reality and expectations. He knew that the scrawny male with the growingly self pleased twist to his features would end up twitching. If he didn't step in at some point he would continue to be powerless to do anything but stand there and watch. Just when he was about to open his mouth to trim the unavoidable and impending damage to be caused Lukas took the moment for himself.

"So your parents. I wonder why you never looked into it?" Lukas said in English, the smug expression growing more obvious at Lars' distress and confusion. "I wonder do you know anything about it Mr Peeters."

Mathias span around, eyes dead and expression set in a glare once he noticed the Dutchman and staying glued to the spot he turned his gaze from the ambiguous intensity of Mathias' stare that held something simultaneously invasive and vulnerable he shifted his attention to the man behind Mathias who continued to smile a smile Lars could have sworn to have seen in the Dane's during his lows, his voice bitter that he imagined he might have heard it in the laugh that had abandoned his ears for days. The faint almost undetectable scent of cologne he recognised from the side of Mathias' neck and he had known that the smell didn't belong there. Whatever and whoever the Norwegian was that was plunking at the strings that made Mathias speak, talk and think Lars despised him and hoped that if he took the time to press deeper into finding out about the relationship between then two men he would not find his fingerprints soiling the innermost depths of his counterpart's heart.

He realised what had him so wound up since he got back.

Mathias already knew that this would be happening.

He stared back levelly at the Norwegian until the smile disappeared and his star increased to a glare. After the heavy atmosphere became too much for all of them Lukas rose from his seat, brushed himself down and announced himself as dismissed when Mathias walked with purposely patterned steps to his room. Face blank and breathing stopped when he brushed past Lars, his dropped mood invasive to the point Lars almost wanted to puke at the sensation of it. At the click of the bedroom door at the end of the hall Lars sprinted forward, pocketing files from the table on his way out the front door before it could slam shut behind the much smaller male. His thoughts from later in the day before became something of the past and his thirst for understanding became too great.

"Oi!" He hissed, grabbing the other by the shoulder to spin him around and gain his attention.

Lars was on his ass and pinned to the ground before his fingers could reach him and he was left dazed and confused and gasping for air under the press of a sharp knee.

"I could hear you perfectly fine. What do you want?"

"...to...talk and...get the...fuck off...me."

Lukas heaved a sigh and follow through, slipping his hands in his suit pockets he inclined his head in invitation for the Dutchman to follow as he sauntered off, not a hair out of place after his quick manoeuvre. Scrambling to his feet and wincing at the sharp pain in his leg he limped forward to catch up. They didn't talk until they were halfway down the street and sitting at a bus stop, immediately he took up to his own cigarettes, completely ignoring the way the Norwegian turned his nose up in distaste of the thin white tube.

"You know those will kill you?"

Jokingly he shoved three more in beside the original and took to lighting it. After making his point he pulled them out again and continued on with the first one, his feet swinging gently as he did.

"Do what do you want to talk about Mr Peeters." His face immediately went to the automatic default expression Lars had learnt people reverted when they were amused, melancholic in Mathias' case or perhaps in Lukas' case pissed off. It was as if the Norwegian knew right away what the questions would be and for some reason Lars was aware in his lack of subtlety that he did. However he still managed to pull a strong emotion from the psychological mess of everyday life and the stiff hold to Lukas' lips and eyes was more than enough conformation.

"Lars."

"I don't care. Anyway shall we get started I don't have long." He continued to eye up the smoke as he spoke, lips pressed into an even thinner line. "What do you know so far about Mathias?"

"The basics?"

"The things that's in the papers."

"Pretty much."

"You know absolutely nothing but his name, age and his parents. Do you know his disorders?"

"I'm guessing psychotic depression and some form of bipolar." He mumbled around his cigarette, blowing out smoke from his nose before he continued. "He told me the pills I know enough from my job to know what they're for."

He tutted under his breath and shook his head. "More like dissociative disorder. Severe. They fucked up the diagnosis. Any others?"

"Not that I know of."

"He has told you fuck all." Lukas sighed again and slumped forward, his fringe falling in front of his face and his eyes pinched tight. "He's kept the schizophrenia pretty quiet then, lucky you. Paranoia too but whoever hired him is already well aware of that and is using him like a puppet when he's not taking anything."

"I don't care about what's wrong about him. I want to know what happened."

"Nobody knows. Not even him, well he does but he says he's forgotten it. I'm afraid you'll have to fight it out of him, what I did learn however I'd rather not tell a single soul. Do you understand?"

Lars looked out to the street where people rushed to and fro. Just where he'd been hours earlier. "If you can't answer that then why are you still convinced you're on talking terms. From how he speaks about you it's not exactly fondly."

His laugh was cold, sharp and short. "Oh I would imagine so." He tipped his head back in a way that was similar to the way Mathias would, with his eyes closed and his hair falling away from his eyes as he took in deep breaths. It left Lars wondering just how long they had been around each other. "We had a thing for a while, after our sort of friendship I ah...did and said some things I regret but...he was forgiving the first few times until it got too much...and I tried to dig too much into everything. After he went to the army it went downhill from there, well he did. He got admitted to too many places that he didn't have time for anything but whatever he was doing. But it was kept too...quiet and under the radar that I couldn't find anything on it or him. He may as well have been dead when he wasn't around. I'd imagine he's the same now yes?"

Lars jerked his head in agreement just as a car parked up in the place of where a bus should be and Lukas rose from his seat. His reflection grim and stretched in the tinted windows. He turned his head just slightly and the Dutchman nodded once more in his direction before getting up and making his way back to the apartment on sluggish feet and an equally sluggish train of thought. During his trek he flicked through what he had pocketed before having his ass handed to him, scrawled notes in a language he again was infuriated to not be able to understand was written beside paragraphs and photos. One of them holding his interest, and naturally he'd seen photos of what Mathias' parents looked like but there were different and more personal and had Lars curious as to how Lukas got his hands on them. The family of three stood together, a child Mathias smiling with dead eyes at the camera while his parents replicated the upturn of his lips but at least it met their eyes int he way it did not his. There was something off about the way he held himself, as if he were aware of whatever power he would have when he was younger. He couldn't have been older than 13 by height and the childlike shape to his face but shit he'd be lying if his shoulder's weren't held strong and his fucking smile was intimidating to say the least.

Swallowing he put it all away for later inspection and took the stairs up to the flat. He decided he liked adult Mathias more than child Mathias. It was down right creepy the way he stared into the camera.

Back in the apartment the shower ran and biting back the worry that accumulated on the back of his tongue he knocked twice at the door and called out his flatmate's name. When he received no reply he took it upon himself to enter. He could have thanked every higher power for having Mathias unharmed and rather with his forehead pressed against the edge of the sink and when his head rose and they made eye contact in the mirror, his chest grew heavy at the emotionless expression he bore. There was assumption in the silence, an truthful assumption that Lars could not deny if Mathias chose to turn it into words and instead of saying anything he wrapped his arms around the Dane's waist and pulled him against his chest to tuck his chin against his shoulder blade.

Mathias tipped his head to the side invitingly, his attention still trained on what he could see in the mirror, and Lars watched blue flicker rapidly over the surface until it was haunting. Lars pressed his lips to the curve of the Dane's neck, savouring the sweet taste of skin and treating it kindly with his tongue he left deep marks in his wake. He should have stopped when he realised the other was frozen, stiller as a statue and not breathing at all. He should have stopped when he saw fear and disgust in Mathias' that filled his eyes when the Dutchman looked at the reflection of the both of them in the body length mirror.

A skull penetrating scream rang in his ears and Mathias threw a fist into the glass, shards falling everywhere and scattering along the marble floors, paperbacks that sat propped up against the toilet seat and nestled beside the sink went flying and pushing away from the Dutchman the blonde dropped to his knees with his arms wrapped around himself and shrunk in on himself.

His hands combed through the limp hair resting on his lap as one would a cat, crying to comfort the Dane who didn't suit the silence that swept over him and stole his voice. Books and papers and broken glass surrounded the two of them and long since dried tears stained dark patches onto Lars' jeans and carved a stream of dried salt water into Mathias' cheeks. He didn't understand why the silence seemed so heavy, why the room was ripped to shreds and why when he'd come in to check on the blonde who was curled in on himself on top of a bed of paperwork he was told in a broken voice to get out while he could.

Mathias rose his head and looked up at the Dutchman, his eyes dead and his lips a thin line as he untangled his hands from his shirt. Sheer madness stuttered his words and pushed them together in a rambled mess "I thought I told you to go. I told you to leave so many time times why did you never leave? Don't get attached go while you can."

Lars simply held him closer.

It was too late to consider it.

Something about the way Mathias reacted to that had him thinking that it looked like the Dane would be the one to change that.

Rather as soon as he forced himself to stop, just stop trying to remain humanely almost immediately shrink mode kicked in and he crouched down to his level, his disgust in the blood and scattered glass and dirt pushed away as he tipped the Dane's chin up forcefully to see his face. "You can't distinguish your reality anymore can you?"

Mathias tapped the sides of his head with a weak smile. "Who said I ever have?"

xxx

The hours, the days, the weeks, and the two months after that incident Mathias had gone straight back to being cold, calm, collected and occasionally teasing the way he had been in the first wee while that they'd been acquainted. The Dane had slipped out without much of a word before he'd gone to work, wherever that was and came back a month later with a grim expression and a commanding bark to his voice when he spoke. Without a doubt it confused Lars to no end and when he tried to confront Mathias about it he found his head smacked up against a wall and Mathias' arm at his throat. Tears brimmed at the corners of his eyes and whimpering Mathias rested his head against the Dutchman's chest and mumbled in his mother tongue just as pathetically.

He'd left quietly again after that with a cloud of that same bitter cologne that had clung to Lukas and a pathetic excuse for an apology.


	10. keep smiling for me

I promised you I'd make it up to you guys and ah! You have been absolutely wonderful UwU  
the reviews and popularity of this are actually making me smile a whole lot and I could kiss most of you for how generous you've been!  
I hope you have had an incredible week and I'll see you guys in another few days feel free to write a comment and I'll make sure to reply to it as soon as I can

**Butterfly Caught - Massive Attack **

* * *

The last he'd seen Mathias had only been a couple of hours ago and just before he sat himself down for a meal made purely of whatever fruit was left in the fridge the Dane shuffled through looking exhausted and the bags under his eyes unbelievably noticeable. Lars acknowledged his presence with a welcoming nod and continued on scraping the remnants of his barely meal onto his fork, comfort food he told himself to make up for the days he'd been worried sick enough to the point of hardly ever eating. Eventually the burden of anxiety and an unexplainable sadness had weighed itself down on him and he'd ransacked the cupboards and freezer for something to smother the tight feeling in his chest. Now more than ever was he pleased to have something to occupy his mouth rather than the words that threatened to pour from him in the form of accusations.

He'd spent most of the day going through the thin sheets of paper with blurred photos of the Dane to try and see if they held any explanation to his behaviour and all he got from them was the same empty eyes and lazy smile that he'd seen in the family photo. However each photo that progressed up until before he ran away the first time from the boys home had become more sinister, as if he were hiding something. The single photo found after he was brought back held an expression more similar to how the Mathias now. However the version of him now had left purple bruising on his neck in a flash of violence and caused him to jump when Mathias sat down beside him, unscrewing a bottle of something that smelt too overpowering to be something allowed to be downed straight and yet that was exactly what the other had done. His lips around the opening he dragged from the bottle, wincing as he did so and Lars tried to tell himself he wasn't watching from the corner of his eye in mixed worry and awe.

Once it was put back down and Mathias' hand was clamped around his mouth to stop himself from spitting it back out did he relax again and continue eating nonchalantly and patiently waited for Mathias say something. Before the words came out of his mouth he knew he'd forgive him no matter what he said.

Love sucked.

"I confuse you and mess with your head yet you don't push me away or yell at me." The Dane said once he'd got his bearings and had his head pressed against the back of the sofa. "I admire that. Your composure, though it's not fair is it? You've dealt with more of my shit than anybody else and everyday I act heartless. And I..." Mathias eyed up his bared neck and very quickly turned his gaze elsewhere. "I'm so sorry."

He would yell at him and scream the city down to rubble if he wasn't kept in the dark about how Mathias would reciprocate the actions he wished to express but did not. Returning his gaze in front of him he put his plate down and held his head in his hands, elbows pressed to his knees and he sighed into them.

"I don't understand it myself Mathias. I really don't." His voice sounded too quiet for his liking but biting back the urge to repeat it louder he continued on. "I just wish you'd tell me something for once. Lukas was right I know nothing."

"You talked to him."

"I thought you would have known."

"I guessed that you might have." He went for the bottle again. "What did he tell you?"

"Nothing more than what I already put together plus a little extra about your relationship with him in the beginning."

"He can be inventive when he's aiming for something." The cap was cracked off and he dragged down a lot more than before. Lars caught his arm as soon as Mathias began to drink more and more deeply as if he were trying to empty the bottle.

"Don't." He dragged his fingers around the neck of the glass and pulled it away from him and beside his half eaten plate. "Not tonight I'm not babying you tonight."

"I lasted years without somebody babying me Lars, I don't..." Mathias sighed and slumped forward, his arms hanging limply at his sides and one of which the Dutchman chose to take in his own hands. "I don't need to be treated like a child."

With a gentle tug Mathias was lying on his lap and Lars kept his hold on his arm tight until he'd relaxed some. His free hand immediately found it's way into the light strands that fell across his forehead, and even as the Dane looked up at him questionably Lars had shook his head and silently shushed him. This would have to do as some middle ground for now, an apology or a compromise he didn't care but he'd been starved of little moments like these for a little longer than he preferred.

Lars rolled up the sleeve that was pulled down past the Dane's wrist and without asking for permission turned his arm to the pale forearm that was decorated in intricate tattooing that reached the elbows. Beneath it all and pressing his fingertips to the shapes of cigarette burns and ghostly white cross hatching of thin lines he tried to find a pulse point. It was unsettling at first to feel the sluggish thrumming under the pressure of his fingers, the tenuous muscular throbbing that stuttered and seemingly nervous as Mathias tensed up. He didn't need to be treated as if he were only a younger child, he needed a support however if the lines that followed some of the tattoos and others that weren't covered and contrasted clearly against the pure black suggested anything.

"Stop idolising them they're disgusting." Mathias' tone was bitter however he made no move to pull it away.

"I'm not idolising something I'm ashamed to have as well. I'm in awe of the fact you're still here despite it all." Lars tightened his faint smile till his lips were worn thin. "You're fucked in the head and probably one of the worst sufferers of a personality disorder I've come across. Your ideas of self medication are destructive and you lash out without thinking but it doesn't seem to be something you can control easily. I don't know a single fucking thing about what you've been through so I can't judge you. Mathias...even if you're scarred and got a war going on in that head. I'm not going to give up on trying to help."

When he felt the other starting to pull away in what he suspected to be shame he pulled the wrist to his lips just over the thickest evidence of his struggles like he was sealing his words with a promise over a battle ground and cupped his hand over the back of Mathias'. Briefly he noticed the remainders of what appeared to be glittery black nail polish around the edges where skin met nail and red still coated one thumb. The ends of his fingers grazed raw skin that was uselessly covered in pathetically placed bandages that probably only covered the worst of the damage.

"What did you hit?" He said quietly as he let go to investigate the wounds. Gravel still stuck to edges of barely scabbed skin and flaying edges of the plasters.

"Fucked up my hand punching a wall nothing spectacular." Came the distance reply, Mathias rolled over to pressed his face against the other's stomach and he took his arm back, his words carving into Lars' gut. "Burst of frustration it's alright it'll heal."

Lars was fully aware of that however still with two fingers pressed against the compulsive tapping of the Dane's heart under thin skin and heavy marking in a reminder of _I'm here, I'm here, I'm alive._ He wasn't entirely sure if everything did.

xxx

When the afternoon sun began to warm the wooden flooring did Lars chose to slip out from under the daydreaming blonde that had taken purchase on his lap and went to look for clean bandages and rubbing alcohol. His feet kissed the ground as it warmed and cooled in some places and trying to hold himself the shock of being over aware of the dramatic and strange changes in the temperature he curled his toes under his feet and searched just a little faster.

Back sitting in front of the Dane he worked quietly under the watchful and silent gaze however glazed over. Whatever it was that was running through the other's head left him in a state that was unable to argue with the care and left Lars to his own thoughts. His thoughts that were constantly haunted with the other's name face voice and smell, and Lars ticked through the boxes of infestation, oppression and eventual possession that had created the extra little ponderings at the back of his head. It was aggravating and addictive in the way a masochist found and craved pain. As he was about to get up to dispose of the filthy bandages did the other finally move with a small smile on his face, one of those chilling ones that held an underlying message and was powerful enough no matter how faint to keep him rooted to the spot. It was one that changed from the message to another the more studious he grew and he could swear he could even taste the mirth on the tip of his tongue when the light glinted just so across those thin lips and cut off his earlier need to learn about the curious blonde. The smile that reminded him that even if he didn't understand the Dane, perhaps that was the other's aim all along.  
To remain a painfully obvious mystery.

"Do you ever get angry about not being able to fly?" Mathias practically whispered. Lars settled himself down for another philosophical twist to his counterpart's words. "It's disappointing to not stretch out your arms and just...vault into the air. Just shrug off the weight of life and everything and just soar into the air."

"Would the air be your wings Mathias?" He decided to entertain the other for a few moments and entertain his need for the intense heat coming off the blonde's skin.

"Nej...that's too predictable. It'd be desires...dreams...wishes the unfulfilled desires. It'd be more magical that way." Mathias sighed and rolled over to wrap his arms tight around Lars' waist. "I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have lashed out at you none of this is your fault."

"What is to blame then?"

"It's something I started myself. Don't worry about it but...it'll all be alright soon there's just a few more things to do before it's alright." He paused, sucking in a sharp breath. "By the way...What time is it?" The Dane's voice cracked and broke within that short sentence in a way that clawed painfully at Lars' heartstrings. A pathetic attempt at a change of subject it seemed. Sighing he slipped back under Mathias with his head cradled on his lap.

"It's nearly four why?"

The other shot up and nearly stumbled over his feet trying to untangle himself from the makeshift jacket blanket. Much more calmly and co-ordinated Lars followed after the cursing blonde.

"Once again. Why?"

"Fuck, shit fuck fuck fuck fuck. Party social event thing disgusting but I've got to go fuck fuck fuck." He watched from the door as Mathias disappeared into his wardrobe and came back out with numerous ties, suits, shirts and shoes piled up in his arms only to be dumped on the bed. "I can't be late to this again crap fuck UUGH."

The whine that came from the frantic Dane was comical, he looked seconds away from pulling his hair out of his skull in frustration and when his hands went to tangle in the messy gold locks Lars had to be the one to untangle them and laugh quietly as the other looked up at him in confusion.

"You don't usually go to these sort of things do you?"

"If it's out of the country I usually do but ah..." Mathias continued trying to gel his hair against his head. "I've got keep up appearances. I haven't been 'around' lately."

"...Oh." He let go and studied over the mountain of fabric. "Go for the white trim."

Mathias gave him a grateful smile and nodded, completely by passing a silk shirt the same shade as his eyes for a crimson red and disappeared for a few moments. He came back out hopping with one shoe on and still fighting with the other and Lars shook his head as even though the other was obviously not ready for whatever this was he still managed to look damn good in a state of panic. Wordlessly he found himself with a suit of his own in his hands, the handle digging painfully into his palms and he stared the Dane down who had sat himself self legged on the ground with a knee bending in a way a knee shouldn't be bent while he did up his laces.

"What's this."

"Your suit get ready you're coming with me."

"Who said?"

"I did and last time I checked I'm higher up the social classes than you and you're going to fucking listen to me or so help me I am not calling Natalia again on such short notice."

"Who's Natalia?"

"Ex girlfriend and when i say ex I mean ex ex ex since I was like 17 now hurry the fuck up we don't have all night." Mathias got to his feet and practically ran to the bathroom, a comb clawing it's way through his hair in the process. By the time Lars had caught up the blonde was struggling with flattening his hair into a comb over and creating a perfect bow tie simultaneously. The glare that was shot in his direction when he didn't make a move to follow through with what sounded more like an order than an invitation shot ice through his bones and numbly he went to get changed, confused by the sudden charge of fear that spread tendrils through his veins.

Maybe he was reminded of the Dane's authority but nonetheless he changed quickly and made a half ass attempted with his hair. The suit inverted to Mathias' black trim on a white whereas Mathias' was white trim on black. When he was standing out front of the penthouse complex with the Dane jittering on the spot with a backpack in his hands did he receive a nod of approval from him and a warm hand pressed against the deep navy of his inner shirt right over the beating of his own heart and he could of sworn it stopped for a few seconds that felt like an eternity when cool lips pressed against his cheek and a smile along with it.

xxx

Lars tried not laugh when he was spun inside, the Dane much too enthusiastic for such a formal setting. People in various coloured suits eyed them up irritably and some of them even showing immediate fawning over the blonde who was clutching onto his hand and later his upper arm. The variety of people didn't show, all of them polished and stiff some of them with obvious affection and jealousy talking to Mathias or glancing in the brunette's direction who stared them down just as levelly until their gaze wandered elsewhere. In most cases Lars would have appreciated his counterpart's charisma but for the time being it struck a nerve when people were much too comfortable swanning up to him.

Eventually a much too touchy girl in an over exposing dress and an artfully styled bun of brown hair whispered into Mathias' ear and had him apologising profusely to the Dutchman as he tore away to a table that held more straight backed men and woman and some faces remained entirely familiar like the tall and stoic faced Swede who Mathias took a seat next to and quickly struck conversation with. The heavy smell of the woman's perfume who the Dane had warmly called Elizabeta lingered for a few minutes longer with Mathias' cologne before it left Lars altogether watching on confused.

Mathias sat beside the taller Swede with a bright smile a musical laugh and a comfortable hand resting on the glassy eyed male's shoulder. He didn't have his glasses on tonight Lars noted, must have been contacts. A few camera clicks had Lars thinking those photos would end up in some paper or somewhere online in the next few hours but if the other two noticed they paid it no mind. However when the Dane leaned across with an arm resting across the other's shoulders and another hand looking as if it were slipping under the table to clutch at his knee to whisper something into Berwald's ear did Lars start to feel a mild and irrational irritation at the whole set up.

That should be him.

Digging his nails into his palm he moved as far away as he couple from the pair and swiped a couple of glassed of wine for himself on the way, blatantly ignoring the stares he received.

He tried not to pay the man no mind who sidled up to his side, non-nonchalantly sipping from a glass of champagne and trying to get his attention with a loud cough. Eventually when the other realised Lars would say nothing the smaller male shook his head irritably and began a one sided conversation.

"How did it feel spinning in the Devil's grip?" Lukas said around the curve of a champagne glass. His thin fingers wrapped around the delicate stem in a way that suggested he was no more happy with the set up than Lars was. However he knew for a fact the Norwegian would fit much better into the grouping than the Dutchman would have. He simply shrugged and pulled a seat up for himself, his chest pressed against the back of the chair and his arms hooked around the back of the wood with each of his own glasses in each hand.

He felt the Norwegian's glare rather than saw it as he remained silent. "I've been looking into everything a little more around our Danish acquaintance." Lars' eye twitched at the last word and his grip tightened around the neck of his glass but he made no effort to say a word. "Strangely enough there's no personal records, no birth certificate, graduation forms, anything about him being the army nothing. So it got me thinking further. What exactly is he involved in..."

"Perhaps they prefer the broken ones, they would easier to...remake and manipulate I guess. And it's clear that Mathias is anything but put together. It's unfortunate that whatever they're doing they can't do it to affectively remove whatever is going on in their heads. It appears his...mental state is being exploited from how downhill he's gotten as of late. Compromised as such." Lukas sighed and continued to examine his nails. "Whatever information is on Mathias is lost or not recorded. Eduard couldn't find a single thing on him anywhere. Despite what's in the media he may as well be dead."

He sighed and swirled the last of his wine around in the bottom of his glass and frowned down. A heavy weight setting in his stomach and chest. "And you're telling me this...?"

"What I'm trying to say is that whatever he's involved with is obviously not something you should let yourself get sucked into. I'm going to leave before he notices me conversing with you but..." His sharp stare was enough of a warning. "This is something big enough that even I don't know about it and I've know him a fuck load longer than you have. Do not. Get attached."

"Yes sir." He said sardonically. "What else do you know."

"He's potentially hostile and indefinitely dangerous. I know he spends his time dosed up on something consistently and I know he's taken a liking to a partially unfortunate excuse for a human being that goes by the name of Lars Peeters."

"I think my 'date' is finished with his business you better go."

"I was just about to." Lukas said stiffly and disappeared into the crowd.

By finished he thought that the blonde would end up coming up to him but in the end he watched him slip away with the noticeably tipsy brunette who was much more touchy feely than before for Lars' liking and getting a lid on his anger he ended up outside with a bottle of half empty wine to replace the glasses and was thankful for the fresh air. Fuck this he thought, a bunch of rich assholes getting fucked in more than one sense of the word was too much for him to really want to deal with. And he was stupid enough to think that the night would be pleasantly spent at Mathias' side but rather he stayed on the sidelines watching him sift from person to person as he so pleased.

Resting his arms over the railing and pressing his head against the cool metal he appreciated the harsh wind that blew through his half assed attempt at a tamed hairstyle and effectively began to clear his head a bit more.

However he couldn't find himself resenting the moment or the setting, in the past year he'd known the Dane no matter how infrequent he was around it felt as if he'd been given a jolt of awareness as to what life really could be. Feeling free to do as you pleased and having the resources, the connections to do so. How the years that had ticked by were more than a dress rehearsal and preparation to an inevitable end and how it was less of an ongoing game of survival of the fittest, less of chapters within a secondly written book to be retold later but more of the paragraphs and inspirations that were written between the lines. The beautiful and nerve wrecking little nothings that hid behind the lines. The people. The scenery. The hidden musical notes that came with the slightest noise.

It was silly and aberrant that Mathias was the one to bring him to the realisation after so many years of simply going through the notions. Mathias who refused the notions and logic that created life and rather created his own as he so wished so it fitted his own wants until the unfathomable abyss of the other side would sweep either of them away with the tide. But the Dane seemed to be arrogant to that, the amount of times he'd come back bloody or bruised, smiling and ecstatic, or on the fine line of suicidal or perhaps a mixed mess of it all gave Lars the impression that perhaps maybe some people on this shitty excuse for a planet would be eternal. The after taste of all those nights where their idle minds would hum with Mathias' crazed secret delusions wouldn't simply vaporize when he was plunged into the disastrous and terrifying reality of an end. Those words would be coveted by an universe that did nothing more than simply exist.

Simply exist in the way that Lars thought he simply was until he quite literally stumbled across his Dane. His Dane that ended up stumbling into his back at that moment and tore him away from his semi mid life crisis. He remained thankful that he was prevented yet again by another meltdown simply because of Mathias' very presence.

He turned around and found his arms suddenly around the blonde in an unconscious attempt to keep his slumping form in place.

"Come with me I need to go to the bathroom." Mathias looked fatigued, his body swaying to and fro on the spot.

"Why?"

"I'll explain once we're in there just come...and help me to the fucking bathroom. And I'd be really grateful...if you got me there within fifteen." The other didn't swear all that often and the emphasis on the word had him nodding jerkily and pulling him back inside with an arm supporting him around his shoulders. They shuffled around the outskirts of the crowd, keeping close to the walls and after he'd managed to get him to the bathroom he could have sworn the Dane had passed out.

Despite the way he allowed himself to be man handled he could still hold his own to some degree and he hung his head over the sink after mumbling a thank you, two fingers forced down his throat until he gagged up whatever he'd had to drink or eat through the night. Lars turned away as Mathias did whatever he needed to do and had to fight with his own gag reflex to not end up in the same state, for the second time in his life he was watching the blonde throw up in an intoxicated mess and he really, really didn't want to be the one to clean him up again. Not with Lukas' earlier words still plaguing and embedding themselves into every corner of his brain.

"Somebody slipped...something into my drink." And sure enough along with the sour smelling fluids were half dissolved pills. "Fuck..."

"Rophenol?"

"I don't know and I don't care." He ran the tap to wash down the contents of his stomach and tried to fix his hair in the mirror. "I look like a mess."

"You look fine."

"Bullshit." He wiped the back of his hand across his lips in disgust before thoroughly washing it, a scowl fixating itself on his usually smiling and/or blank features. Popping a handful of mints into his mouth after rinsing it out he spoke around them. "Well that was unpleasant."

"Should we go home or?"

"Not yet may as well rub it in the prick's face that tried to drug me up hm?" He laughed bitterly and curled his hand through the bend of the Dutchman's.

"Is it even a good idea for you to move?" Worriedly he pulled him back through the swinging doors and into the room of thickly scented incense and the crescendo of violins.

"I think I'm good hands. May I have this dance Mr Peeters?"

"Naturally Mr Køhler."

xxx

Lars kept his hand firm on the Dane's waist as they danced, all two left feet and jerky movements he tried to lead Mathias around the floors and all the while his dance partner smiled on in amusement, following his lead a hell of a lot more gracefully. As Mathias moved to rest his head on the other's shoulder, alarms and screams filled the air in a split second and where he froze the Dane simply sighed and pulled away.

"We best get going before everybody starts running out."

"What d-"

"Isn't it obvious, I'll find out tomorrow for somebody. Or it'll be in the papers come _on_."

Lars found himself being pulled through the crowd in a direction opposite to the way they all ran. Mathias ahead and his grip tight around his fingers until they were outside and blasted with a gust of fresh air. He heard the blonde say something along the lines of it being nicer outside than in before they made quick haste away from the house. He didn't remember the Dane grabbing his bag nor his coat on the way out. They diverted from the road where cars lined the sides of the street and rather took a path around the back that was all overgrown trees and a barely visible path, once deep within the under brush did Mathias stop his near sprint and much to Lars chagrin and confusion began to undress.

"What are you...?"

"Shut up I'm just changing my pants it's nothing you haven't seen before."

Despite that being a true statement Lars looked around in an attempt of giving him some privacy, a hand in his hair and still the chaos from the household could be heard from their little spot. When soft leather clad fingers laced through his did he pay attention to his company instead of the faint light of the mansion behind them and gravel once again crunched under their feet along with the cracking of tree branches and cars and sirens came from the distance, faint in the opposite direction as they walked. Mathias offered him a cigarette which he accepted with shaking hands, lighting theirs under the same flame they continued on. The trees around them were deathly still as was the backdrop of the night sky that showed no sign of cloud or change from what was visible between the filtering of dull green.

"Sorry." Mathias said quietly, his foundation paled face being illuminated by a wash of red from the burning end of his cigarette.

"What for?"

"Being a dick."

"You already apologised."

"And I won't be able to do it enough. I really am sorry."

"Just don't do it again."

"I'll try."

He could have sworn those two words were written into both their skin like an art. They tried to be normal, they tried not to give in to each other's affections, they tried not to pry too much into each other's private lives though it appeared Mathias knew more about Lars than Lars knew about himself. They tried and failed and yet still they had the nerve to repeat it to each other once again. For another night and perhaps another life time. Legitimately 'I'll try' grew branches in each of their veins that choked off any 'I will'.

And there was that smile at the edges of Mathias' lips that birthed a nostalgia Lars gained whenever he saw the despaired artists reconstruction of pain on his thin yet strong form. A child hood memory that was fuzzy around the edges and was becoming something he wished to remember in it's entirety. Longer they walked, the path growing more and more wild from disuse that they were forced to climb over the odd fallen tree trunk or jump over the sudden break in the ruined walkway that was washed out by a natural stream. He found it amusing every time the Dane's lips would turn down in a frown of distaste at the obvious overexposure to nature's elements, or the whine or the huff of resignation when his foot was left drenched by a puddle. He himself would have found it hilarious is he wasn't brewing in his own disgust for nature and the dirt that began to coat the once brilliant white of his suit.

Lars would have kissed Mathias when he said he had a spare change for them both. If it wasn't for the fact that it seemed as if Mathias had expected something like this to happen and even more if it didn't seem like he was the one to cause it. He was lucky the Dane's fingers remained tightly laced through his or he would have given into the crawling feeling along his skin from the decomposing remnants of something that was obviously once cared for.

Their pace picked up considerably when street lights were able to be seen through shrubbery and pushing through they found themselves disorientated on the side of the road where cars raced on by and the sounds coming from the mansion which was however far back was nothing more than faint background noise that one had to strain to pick up. It was clear how filthy they were under the lights and once again Mathias led him to a spot behind a phone box where they quickly changed into spare clothes that had been previously prepared and Lars didn't know whether to be grateful or concerned at how he'd missed his own clothes from his own drawers that ended up in the back pack.

Dry and semi clean Mathias wandered around and took up the shelter of the phone box to which Lars followed suit and stood behind him as he pressed his ear to the receiver, punching in numbers he seemed hesitant to put together for the call. From beside him Lars could hear the drawn out beeping and eventual sound of somebody picking up on the other end. Immediately Mathias talked in a hushed whisper, his voice going a hundred miles an hour until he barely sounded like he was talking English and the single word that held the end of the conversation most likely was not.

Mathias hung up with a click and took to resting back against the glasses doors of the telephone box and the Dutchman chose to follow suit, his legs stretched out in front of him and he watched as Mathias lit another smoke off the butt of his previous one and admired the way the smoke lazily curled in the air above their heads.  
"I'm going to introduce you to some old friends. I ah hope you don't mind all too much they're a bit strange."

"What and you're not?"

"Very witty Lars." He pulled from the tube and held the contents of it in his lungs for as long as he could until they started panicking for air. He smiled as smoke filled the enclosed space of glass and cracking paint off plastic."Truth or Dare."

"Huh?"

"Truth or Dare." He repeated.

"Ah Truth."

"Bah you're no fun. Okay where'd you get that scar?" Mathias eyed the top of Lars' forehead with interest.

"I was running with a pair of scissors, not the best idea even if it does seem like bullshit." He shook his head so the strands that had fallen loose from the spikes fell across his forehead. "Truth or Dare.

"Truth." The Dane smiled to himself, the sardonic amusement being directed in Lars' direction when he turned his head.

"Who are you?"

The question seemed to take Mathias off guard and the smile began to quiver at the edges. Through gritted teeth Mathias replied with "I don't even know. Truth or Dare."

"That wasn't an answer."

"_Truth or Dare_."

"Fine dare."

"Kiss me."


	11. background and foreground

Screaming oh my gosh the positive response to this has made me beside myself in happiness you have no idea!  
Thank you so so so much for all of your sweet comments and oh I was so close to thinking of leaving you guys hanging even in this chapter but I decided against it either way and I think (maybe) here's my proper gift to you UwU 3  
I seem to have this habit of listening to Chet Faker's 'Arch Angel' whenever I'm writing romantic scenes between these two perhaps I should incorporate that in somehow at some stage haha

(btw nsfw when I said I owe you guys I meant it (; )

Anyway enjoy! And thank you all a massive bunch big hugs hope you have a lovely week!  
**Calvin Harris - Feel so close  
**

* * *

"Kiss me."

He could have sworn the flowers and thorns that had been growing in his chest since their meeting flourished into a full blown garden.

Unthinkingly he manoeuvred Mathias from his spot beside him and rearranged him on his own lap. From there he chose to covet the inviting press of the other's body against his and the warmth that radiated off it that was however not anywhere near as inciting as the tilt of the blonde's head or the laughing lips that went with it. He took the time to run his hands up the length of Mathias' legs long and covered in a surprising amount of tough muscle that was rock hard against his hands, he moved to the curve of his waist that took on a rather feminine slope with the sharp protrusion of hipbones that was still able to be felt through the layers of cotton and denim and eventually up to the angle of a tipped back head that exposed lightly freckled skin that hadn't been able to be covered in a thin sheet of foundation and pressed powder.

"Take your time Lars." Mathias murmured, his body entirely pliable under the Dutchman's touch and Lars smiled thin lipped as he pressed his thumbs to each temple and aided the other's head back forward. Eyes that were once rolled back came back in all their intense glory under heavy lids and still giving in the desire to simply touch he finished his mapping with his fingers combing over stiffly gelled hair and he leant in to close the air between them.

At first it was just a soft press of lips, their breath being exchanged from ones lungs to another's and Lars could taste the anticipation crackling in the air until he drank deeper. It was so much better than what he'd remembered of them being drunk and pressed against a hotel couch, despite the scenery and the place in general he wouldn't have given this moment up for the world. Not the eager tongue that flicked into his mouth and against his own with a skill he shouldn't have been shocked to have known the other possessed, not the hands that wandered into his own hair to keep him as close as was physically possible or the timid roll of hips against his. Not the warmth nor the natural taste of Mathias' mouth or even the laugh that hit his own teeth when they slipped against each other at the wrong angle so their noses bumped together.

And he could have stayed like that for an eternity and it certainly felt like it when he was trying to get out a confession of affection in between with gulp of air that was only smothered by a mouth he'd been fascinating about for months. But not everything on the planet was smiling down on the pair in that moment and car lights flooded the phone box and a horn tooted loud and unnecessarily long. The Dane's head rested on Lars' shoulder, body shaking with laughter until eventually he pulled away and took the Dutchman with him. Before they pushed through the doors he leant up and caught his lips a second time and it was confusing, like a promise he wasn't even sure the other would keep.

"Sadiq!" The Dane was beside himself in laughter was he leant over the window of the silver convertible to leave a scattering of kisses along a darkly tanned and densely stubbled jaw. Lars was about to pull him back when the blonde was dragged over and the two men in the front seats were sharing a lapful of a laughing Mathias after he was tugged over the edge and Mathias shared his warm welcome with the other warm skinned male. Their colouring was unbelievably similar though in the lack of light he was able to make out the modest green of the taller male and the burning almost gold of the other.

Mathias sat up quickly, a smile on his face and the cigarette back between his lips. "Come on! Isn't the Bentley just beautiful Lars?" He said as he slithered from his spot to the back seat another dry eruption of laughter leaving him. "Come in don't just stand there. Mm. Sadiq, Ga..Ge..Gupta this is Lars."

"We've seen him in the magazines. You two make quite the spectacle of yourselves." Gupta smiled slightly in amusement at Lars obvious discomfort.

Lars sort of starting tuning out the talk after that and watched on quietly as Mathias spoke with over expressive hand gestures and his unlit cigarette bounced haphazardly between his lips as he spoke. The Dutchman was still able to taste him faintly on the roof of his mouth and oh how he was craving another hit so soon, Mathias caught his gaze and smiled at him warmly before leaning over the car seat to have his smoke lit by Gupta and still managed to talk around the now burning tube. He kept to the background of the trio's life for the time being as he dozed and daydreamed while watching the other talk. Stealing one of the Dane's cigarettes he sat back and watched the world pass him, his world for now 3 of billions of people as they talked about stories and memories that he shared no part in nor interest. It all seemed like code after a while, places he hadn't seen and people he hadn't met. The background and foreground of his own existence in that moment as he curled smoke in his lungs and listened to himself inhale over the buzz of a three-way conversation.

Mathias turned his attention back to him after a while and gave him the audacity to believe he was important to whatever they were talking about and he added his own input when it was relevant but it all appeared to be rather mechanic to himself. His thoughts were louder than his and their words combined. He thought about the brief intimacy he'd shared with the blonde that had a completely different feeling to any other time they'd been in a similar situation. There was a desperation to it, a hidden message and a secret he wasn't clever enough to entirely uncover or understand. A sort of sophistication and a spin to the way Mathias had looked at him when he'd asked for the simple and complicated request.

It must have been written across his face or in his eyes or something along those lines as Mathias shuffled closed and pressed their heads together. His fingers finding their way between each of Lars' and he held on tight.

"It meant more than you'd think it did Lars." He said. "It meant a hell of a lot more than anything I've ever done."

Lars was lost for words, the ability to structure a full sentence dead on his tongue and he chose to pull the other in closer and revelled in the mouth that pressed a curved peck to the end of his nose. The moment they'd shared in the glass confines rapidly faded into history and for now he would look forward to what could be as opposed to the could have beens. This was better, this was now this was what he was living and breathing for and sharing the same air and warmth as the Dane he couldn't have asked for much more.

Mathias pulled away and bent backwards across the back-seat of the convertible until his back hit the cold metal and his arms were in the air that caught his excited laughter with the wind. Lars found himself tugged down beside him and together with their hands interlaced above their heads they appreciated the rush of the air, the purr of the engine and the quiet conversation going on in the front seats

"I can nearly fly." It was a quiet statement, but loud enough for Lars to hear over the wind whistling through their ears. "Lets be free for a while."

"We're free now."

"Be free with me."

"I am."

"Always?"

He laughed. "Always."

xxx

Mathias was twitching by the time they got back, his hands running through his hair in distress and his jaw clenched. He kept his grip tight around the Dutchman's until it hurt Lars' fingers and made the ends of them numb. Conversation had long since died by the time they'd pulled up and even the pair at the front watched him in concern as he bolted from his seat and disappeared through the doors of the building in record speed. Before Lars could even consider following after him the Turk turned around and stared him down.

"Do you know what's wrong with him? He was fine just a few minutes ago." He said carefully, his stare intense and his counterpart matched it.

"Uh...no?" In all honesty Lars never had a fucking clue what was ever wrong with Mathias no matter how much the awareness of it sat at the back of his head tauntingly. "You've known him longer so you tell me."

"He's never opened up to anybody enough for anybody to be able to piece it all together." The smaller male sighed.

"He makes up a lot of stories so people don't really know much." Sadiq added. "Pretty much all of them are bullshit to be honest."

"Not many people know the full story. Something about you hints however..." Gupta leant forward curiously. "That you do. Even unintentionally he must have told you something."

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat and prayed his internal discomfort wasn't evident on his face. When it appeared they had nothing else to say he thanked them and took off in the same direction the Dane had and relaxed once the elevator doors slid shut behind him. By the time they reopened the introduction and goodbyes were memories of the past and something he willed himself to shrug off his shoulders.

Lars found Mathias shaking with a glass of god knows what in one hand and a bottle in the other, his eyes were closed and his forehead pressed against the front of the fridge as he breathed deeply, chest heaving with each inhale. He pulled away once the Dutchman coughed into his hand to get his attention, his lips were tight and his eyes stony but he nodded once and finished the contents of his glass.

"What's going on?"

"...Panic attack..."

He tried not to be too obvious in his noticing of the syringe sitting on the counter. Or the fact Mathias was hastily tugging his sleeve down. Or the fact the other was swaying on the spot and trying to use the fridge as a support. To say the least yeah he was a little bit more than disappointed, but rather than lecture the blonde on the reasons why it was stupid he shook his head and set to making himself something caffinated.

"Don't look at me like that I haven't..."

"Don't do it again."

"Okay."

He didn't think it'd be that easy. But Mathias sounded sincere enough with that single promise. Lars took his mug and left wordlessly to the living room and was surprised enough to hear the shuffle of feet following after him, but rather than take a seat beside the Dutchman Mathias stood beside him with his mouth tightly pursed in thought. Trying not to place his hopes in a drop in the ocean and a change in the weather he beckoned him forward until Mathias' toes hit his own and he pulled him down by the shirt collar until they were eye level, noses brushed alongside each other's and he let his breath etch against Mathias' lips. At some point the Dane's legs had given out and he found himself with a lapful of indifferent blonde and a drugged smirk that made fury burn in his stomach. There was the arrogance he'd seen when they'd first met.

"Uh Lars what are you..."

"Sh. Don't talk don't think just...just fucking..." He struggled for his words, for an intelligent sentence that would get the point across, for anything that wouldn't reduce him to action which resulted in failure as the seconds ticked by and his lips covered the other's in a kiss more searing and treading the line of bruising. He could feel the excitement, the desperation and the relief radiating off the other male when fingers clawed at his jawline, his hair and neck as if to draw him in closer. Lars felt as if he were in a state of dreaming as the other responded to him almost too enthusiastically, the teeth biting at his tongue and lips massaging against his gradually turning from something that may have been shared in one's last moments and more to a tender exchange that held a pace that felt as if they had all the time in the world. For the first time he was kissing the Dane not as if he were a tourist to the other but more of a resident, he belonged there. It was meant to happen, whatever this was, they were meant to have this memory and time in history to themselves.

He travelled his attention from Mathias' mouth to his jaw, tempted to leave a mark and he would have if the other had not spoken up.

"Stop acting like you own me." Mathias whispered hotly into his ear, his hands under his shirt and down his pants. "I own the world but it doesn't own me. I'm freer than the wind and I blow in any direction I so wish, I'm like the ocean I'm unable to be contained or controlled. My prayers remain nothing but syllables and curses to any God who so much as hears a breathe of it because I'm the equivalent death."

His teeth grazed the side of the Dutchman's neck.

"Everything that exists in this moment and knows my name fears me."

That should have been enough of a warning. And he would have taken that into account if Mathias wasn't **_higher than a kite_** and curling his tongue around the edge of his earlobe in such a deliciously tantalising way that his words sounded like nothing more than background music to the movie of their own lives. Perhaps it was an example of Mathias telling him something about himself that he hadn't told others, something written in code that would be clearer than daylight if he'd so much as taken the time to look between the lines but for the time being he couldn't care less.

He shouldn't have ignored that hidden and yet most obvious message. But how could he not when he was being lavished and granted the attention he'd been so long pining for. Not with his hand kneading against the tenting in his briefs or the one that clawed unseen lines down his sides or the tongue that being it's exploration once again against his. Lars could have screamed when all of that went away briefly but when he heard the sound of shifting fabric and watched through blurry eyes as the Dane's shirt was thrown away to the side and eventually his trousers with it, he still could have screamed however not in protest but in relief. Mathias was back on him again in an instant and eagerly he leant in to take his claim back on that taste of the other's bottom lip. The male who covered his thighs and rutted down into his crotch burned brighter than the sun, intense and unbelievably warm against him, pleasant and for a few minutes appearing to be the reason why he was living and breathing and claimed to have a pulse. A blindingly hot sweep of lethal stardust that created and destroyed any sense of conscious and replaced it with raw need and spontaneous, unexplainable bursts of emotion.

Idiotic it was, but a love like that was irrational enough for simply being.

Their tongues slid together messily the further along they found themselves getting, Lars being stripped away from the navy shirt and white tie, his jeans being yanked down to his knees along with his briefs and he could have written enough poetry to fill a notebook about the vulnerability that crossed Mathias' eyes, the set to his lips and the stuttering to his breath as he stretched himself open on the Dutchman's lap. His head fell forward and the loose strands of his hair with it to conceal whatever expression he wore to match the quiet mutterings in his original language, panicked perhaps, hopeful maybe.

The cool coating of lubricant had Lars tipping his head back and hissing, the other incredibly capable of multi tasking between preparing himself and Lars simultaneously. The jerks of Mathias' hand were long, practised and skilled with every twist of his wrist and a voice at the back of the Dutchman's head reminded him that he'd done this with so many others, however that voice grew quieter and quieter the more Lars willed himself to be entirely immersed in wave after wave of toe curling pleasure in it's almost most perfect form.

"Is this what you want?" Mathias said just as he rested his hands behind each of the Dutchman's shoulders and hovered above the flushed head of his arousal.

Lars nearly laughed in disbelief. "It's what I need."

"Stop being so sentimental." The Dane wasn't as good at hiding his amusement and snickered against the side of Lars' neck before aiding the brunette between his legs. It was better than Lars could have ever hoped for, pleasantly tight but not impossibly so as if to hurt the two of them and just the right kind of warmth. It was all, the right kind of warmth and he could have stayed like that forever and selfishly he wished they could, so he wouldn't forget any of this, how inciting the other felt around him tightening at just the right time as he eased himself down until they were hip to hip and both panting through their restraint.

Lazily Mathias sealed their lips together again, his hips rolling leisurely and grinding down to take the other as deep as physically possible and perhaps even further, the mental depth that confused Lars from where their bodies began and ended and settled for them both being entirely endless. His hands held onto the backs of Mathias' thighs, taking control over what he could when he was sure he was losing control on himself and set up at least something akin to a pattern or rhythm, skin mere seconds from slapping together and each of them filling the air with horny moans but he kept it balanced, set and slow for the time being. It was impossible to stretch this out forever but he could only pretend and make it last as long as he could.

Mathias laced his fingers through the brunette's hair, nails digging into the back of his head as he pressed Lars' cheek against his chest and rode through the rest of the resemblance of a rhythm, rising, falling and tightening at just the right moments until the Dutchman was almost shaking with the need to let go and reach his peak of euphoria but the hands in his hair kept him at bay, reminded him that perhaps this wouldn't be something that could happen again and if the splattering of hot tears on the top of his head were anything to go for, his hopes were set in how the future treated them both.

In eerie fascination he pulled away and looked at the evidence of the Dane's crying streaming down his face and Lars was amazed he made it look attractive. He coveted the sobbing that the other tried to smother against the crown of his head, the whines and gasps of his name and when he asked what was wrong Mathias had replied with 'it hurts'.

"Where?" He stopped altogether and the Dane growled, forcing his hips to start moving again.

"Not there dumbass. Here." He leant back to point just over his heart. "My chest hurts so much."

"Can I help it?" Lars said in fond amusement.

The answer was undoubtedly there but Mathias shook his head and pushed himself further to make the conversation die, picking up the pace as his legs tensed on either side of the Dutchman's thighs and his hands smoothed over the plains of his chest as if to map out every inch of unfamiliar territory in the short time they had. Salt water tears dried on his cheeks by the time Lars' was supporting him from the curve of his back and tipping him back as he took over complete control, his thrusts rough and fast to get the job done. Nails scraped down his back until the skin was raw and stinging however not unpleasantly and he whispered Mathias' name with every slide in, whispering it every time he felt a jolt in the other's body and a reply to every hoarse uttering of his own name.

He ran his tongue over his own lips and watched through half cast lids as Mathias rode him with his head tipped back and his words a bare whisper, taking him into that intense heat even long after the Dane was spent. The rise and fall of his hips lazy and slow, but he still kept himself tense up until Lars reached the same release.

They stayed joint together at the hips until Mathias saw it fit to move and they'd both caught their breath again. Salt water tears dried on his cheeks and his lips were red, bruised and ruined and left Lars confused as to it the torn skin on his lips was the product of his own teeth or the other's nervous habit. The Dane managed to hide his limp as he pulled his jeans back up and silently moved to the bathroom leaving Lars to run his hands through his own hair completely confused as to what exactly happened and feeling more than a little proud of himself for achieving that much.

Taken out of his state of paradise he basked for a little while, cock limp against his thigh and sweat drying on his skin in the morning sun. He held his hands up in out of the beams, watch it become a silhouette against the brightness, the odd ray struggling through the gaps of his fingers and he kept his breathing even until he found the nerve to move and slip in behind the Dane who jumped out of his own little world and into reality when Lars' lips pressed against his shoulder.

"You're going to regret this." Mathias murmured. "Everybody does."

"I'm not regretting it right now."

"It's strange." He turned around, blue a restless ocean as the Dane stared into his own eyes. "For some crazy reason I believe you."

Lars cupped the sides of his face and drew him in to press their lips together in a brief kiss that the blonde sighed into and responded to leisurely. There was champagne in his saliva and the more their tongues and hands sought out each other's water slicked skin and desperate, exhausted muscles Lars found himself drunk on the taste. The water that used to be Lars' excuse to be touched was replaced with the warmth of the blonde's body pressed against his and it was far from heated, it was sweet, something to be filed away for a to be continued when they were both wrapped up in that same lust they'd been wrapped up in ten minutes ago, or was it thirty.

When they pulled away he swore he could have seen a part of the Dane he'd never seen before, vulnerable and raw and so completely him, something stripped away from that mask he wore so perfectly but snapped back in place as soon as it had come as soon as Mathias began to chuckle and threw the scrubber at him while he went back to rinsing his hair and immediately took that warmth and taste of sunshine with the turn of his back.

The Dutchman watched the rivulets cascading down Mathias' back that was marked in both scars and ink before he began lathering himself in the same fashion the other was.

xxx

Mathias' limp was more evident when he tried to walk faster down the road with a bag of freshly baked bread for sandwiches he'd claimed to be craving and a paper cup of coffee and a smile that seemed to compliment the sun above them. Lars was well in front, walking backwards with no care for anybody else that happened to be strolling down with them just to watch the Dane complain about him walking too fast. He kept an envelope and his own cup tight between his hands, the mail he tried to avoid thinking much on as soon as he'd opened it to see there was a new offer for something further away, something a better pay and the potential for success.

He'd pushed it to the back of his head but the flimsy letter felt like it weigh a ton in his hand. Lars wasn't expecting to see Mathias sprint towards him an obvious struggle to give into the ache that resided in his lower back yet still he managed and leapt into his arms with his legs around the Dutchman's waist, the Dutchman who had to fight with his hands to not drop his drink or the condemning opportunity.

"Carry me." Mathias demanded.

"I don't think I have much choice."

The Dane tipped his head back and laughed, his lopsided smile one of the closest things to natural Lars had seen him wear and rolling his eyes he dropped the other and gestured for him to get on his back before he stumbled his way to their home, ignoring the disapproving stares of the people flooding on either side of them. Mathias appreciatively pressed a kiss to the back of his ear and continued to chatter about odds and ends between sips of his latte and the request to be bumped up when he felt himself slipping. Lars was amazed that half of his own coffee didn't end up spilled on the pavement.

In the middle of Mathias' soliloquy regarding his amusement at some of the people who passed them he said in a wondering voice that seemed to reflect the slightest resemblance to a wanderlust he'd produced when he'd asked if the Dutchman would like to go to that rotting mansion in the middle of nowhere so many months ago. His voice soft and almost confuse when he'd suggested. "We should go to Rome."

"You still haven't taken me to Denmark yet." Lars chewed on his laugh of mirth that the other's groan of protest. "Maybe one day."

"Let's go tomorrow!" He said, flopped his arms over the brunette's shoulders and his grip remained tight on both the cup and brown bag.

"Unfortunately some of us have to work Mathias." He bounced him just as the doors slid open to their destination. "I can't just leave and go places like you can."

"In all honesty I do have to work but that's like Wednesday and it's still in the city but come oooooon." He whined into Lars' ear. "You don't really have to work I can just pay for everything."

"I still have to pay rent."

"Wait you're still paying that?"

"Yes Mathias."

"Oh. That's stupid you can stop doing that now."

Lars turned his head to stare at the other curiously from the corner of his eye and Mathias smiled back. He wished he could say okay, he wished that his self esteem wasn't dripping on the expensive marble floors of the lobby along with the courage he had been trying to build up to tell the Dane he had an offer for something more. He kept his mouth shut and shook his head exasperated and took comfort in the arms that wound tighter around him and that legs that tensed around his waist to keep himself locked into place as if he belonged there and Lars couldn't deny that to a degree he did, he fit into the curve of his own back more perfectly than anything or anybody.

But as they entered through the doors to the penthouse and Mathias hopped off his back to make the sandwiches he'd promised to make before they left he figured that no he wasn't perfect, not that Lars was either and nobody really was but he made him laugh. Laugh in a way that had him back tracking and looking over it twice to make sure the sound he heard from his own throat was real or not because it seemed so out of place after years of keeping it in. And Mathias had told him time and time again that he was only human, he admitted to making mistakes and making decisions that ruined many things but that he'd tried to learn from them all. That unlike Lars he didn't find too much comfort in the flow poetry but the words and hidden messages that made them up and that alone made Lars smile more than once to think about that a person who went with the flow preferred the deeper meanings rather than the obvious and he had to tell him that he himself preferred the base of the poetry than what was on the surface and perhaps that was what made them...

...compatible.

They were similiar and worlds apart all at once and he loved that, he loved wishing to pry open hidden doors with a crowbar to see what was behind them if it scared him or not just to get a better idea of why, why the meanings behind words meant more to the Dane than the pleasure of them simply being. Then again it made him a hypocrite when he was refusing to just accept the surface of the Dane and craved to push further through for a glimpse of the more complex parts. Lars had seen the weaker parts of Mathias, when he was broken or breaking, when he was mad and when he was so sad he drowned himself in bottle after bottle of liquid self medication and yet still he couldn't help but think at times he was so fucking perfect for and to him that he let all of that be the background to the best parts he saw on the best of days. Because he made him smile and he made him laugh and he made him say and think things he'd attempted to ignore for the earlier parts of his life and now he couldn't see any way to go back.

Mathias came back with their lunch and pulled him out onto the balcony so they could smoke and eat and for Lars look over his schedule for the next day. The Dane kicked his legs up onto the railing and tipped back in his chair until the front of it was lifted off the ground. The bread was still warm and true to Mathias' claim it was absolutely delicious, they finished their coffee and laughed in unison and yet still no matter how peaceful it would have been Lars was buzzing on a strange tension.

He gave up on the paperwork and leant across quickly peck the corner of the other's lips, his nose, his cheeks, his eyelids, everywhere he could get to until the taste of foundation was heavy on his tongue and made him laughed again at the ridiculousness of it. Worry crossed Mathias' expression and he held the Dutchman's chin on his fingers and raised an eyebrow.

"What's wrong you're laughing too hard." He said slowly, hesitantly almost.

"Nothing I'm just...I don't believe any of this is happening." It was a lie and the truth all in one and he smiled just a little wider and pressed their noses together.

"You're rubbing off on me I think."

"What the 'crazy'?"

"Not that part." Lars ran his fingers down the other's neck and his smile swept away with it until it was barely detectable. "The part of you that sees something enjoyable in everything."

"Even the worst things have something in them to like."

"You're ridiculous."

"And for somebody with a Ph.D and the title Doctor you're surprisingly stupid." Mathias snickered and kissed him quickly before returning his attention to his food. He popped a slice of tomato into his mouth that had slid out from between the bread slices and winked. "You're _my_ weird stupid and strangely beautiful doctor if you like it or not."

He did like it

Oh he liked it a lot.

However he didn't know how long that would last when he shifted and felt the envelope in his pocket jab him in the thigh and remind him of the burden of telling the Dane about how far he could utilize the 'doctor' part of his name if he so chose. But with the other smiling at him so sweetly and so easily saying he was his...

No. He couldn't leave behind the man who was created of the seemingly millions of books the lined the walls of nearly every room or the songs that he'd sing to himself when he was in the shower and thought Lars couldn't hear or the thoughts that he talked about on Saturday mornings...or nights and were eaten back up again with pathetic looking meals. He couldn't leave behind the thousands of things that he'd met and discovered...not when there were a million and one things he still didn't know and making his decision...

Fuck.

Later that night before Mathias had hugged him from behind and asked him to spend the night with him in his room he set the letter up in flames.


	12. Lobotomy ensures my good behavior

I suggest listening to this in the last part of this **hell is around the corner - Tricky**

Anyway yay! Oh you guys have been absolutely amazing!  
There's a quick change of P.O.V and a little more back story to Mathias halfway through but I hope it's alright? Anyway I hope you guys are having a fabulous weekend and I'll see you next Sunday! (or earlier depending on how fast I write the next chapter, I'm on school holidays now so I should have heaps of time haha)

**Just what I am - Kid Cudi**

* * *

They fell asleep after creating a make shift hut with Mathias' duvet pulled over their heads like a flimsy protection from the outside world and Lars was unbelievably surprised at how much he talked at or to, he couldn't tell, the Dane who listened to him intently with a nod of the head or the odd comment to fuel Lars to speak further. When the Dutchman mentioned how he'd stay outside in the coldest of winter months, coupled up in the rabbit hutch where it was only just big enough to fit a pre-pubescent teenaged boy and coddle his floppy eared companions only to find himself in his own bed the next morning did he see the warmest of smiles grace Mathias' face. It was that same smile he fell asleep with and Lars was able to trace his fingers around the curve of Mathias' lips and dip into dreams with a smile matching his counterparts.

He woke up at the the crack of Dawn and had to untangle himself from the sleeping blonde to get ready for work. Mathias grumbled under his breath and tried to hold him closer but he shook him off, distracting him with a peck to the lips before wrenching out of his hold to claim the shower and eventually the espresso machine which he watched sleepily, still trying to dry his hair with a towel and slide his feet into his shoes. He left in a while later on his bike with one final goodbye to the Dane and his backpack weighing him down.

It was like saying goodbye to a lover. He'd nearly forgotten what an almost but not quite relationship felt like.

He didn't even know what they were by this point. He was just happy it was something.

Lighting his pipe he turned up to work a little more than stoned and feeling like he was totally 100% okay for teaching a class of varied 'budding' psychologists or whatever they wanted to do with what he droned on about.

"Good work on the new job Lars!" From behind him a musical voice congratulated him and Feliciano bounced up to his side with his German suspected-to-be partner in tow. He sleepily turned around, blinking his boredom out of his eyes from waiting in line to get a single coffee and gave the pair a confused stare.

"New...Job?"

"Yeah! The offer in Brussels wasn't it?" The Italian tipped his head to the side, looking almost like a puppy dog with the massive smile and bigger eyes to match it. He really, really didn't look his age when he did that.

"Oh ah I didn't take it." He turned back around and quickly ordered, stepping aside to lean against the counter while the pair ordered.

"What why!?"

He bit on his tongue so the truth didn't slip and turned his eyes down. "I've got a perfectly good job here."

"But it's better pay and you said on-"

"Feliciano I don't think that's why he didn't take it." Ludwig interjected and oh Lars could feel that cold blue gaze burning into his forehead. Grabbing his drink and nodding a thank you he made quick haste to a table without looking back up at the German to see if they would follow. He didn't have to already he knew whatever conversation that had started would end up feeding every other conversation between the three of them for the rest of the day.

"Huh?" A sharp elbow was dug into the Italian's side and his eyes widened. "Ooh...I see."

"Hm." Ludwig tried to hide his smile with his mug of coffee.

"Hm?" The Dutchman said irritably. "What no that's not why..."

"You're a terrible liar." The German's smile remained contained in his eyes. "If it wasn't what we think it is you wouldn't know exactly what we're talking about."

Lars resisted the urge to tell them both to shut up and stick out his tongue childishly. That kind of behaviour wasn't appropriate in a work environment and he had a reputation to maintain. He knew he intimidated the bigger half of the student body, most of the students were visibly shaking when they were asking him a question about their work, assignments or whatever. He couldn't fathom why, perhaps it was his default expression of deadpan or the fact he sounded so sharp when he talked groaning inwardly he rested his head on the edge of the table as the other's talked amongst themselves and he pondered how quickly he could slip away without them noticing to claim the usually empty art room.

It probably wouldn't last for long seeing as he was the centre of attention at the moment even if he didn't really want it. He just wanted to crawl back in bed beside his Dane before the other had to disappear off to where he went for work and again the house would be overcome by a heavy silence and loneliness he couldn't quite describe. He would curl up beside the fire on some nights after getting it started at feel withdrawal from the brutal honesty that he'd see in Mathias' eyes as he watched the flames and Lars, watched him. And already he found himself missing that, even at work where he was surrounded by people that talked to or at him he felt...

Alone.

Tipping his head away from the table he finished his coffee, fingers tapping impatiently on the top of the wood not in impatience to get back to teaching but rather in impatience to get back to the only place that gave him solitude.

And he thought with fingers itching to do something whether it be write or draw about the very inspiration for such notions that devoured his creativity and digested it into something far more interesting and far more complex. His teeth remained gritted on the edge of the paper cup that had held his messiah in the form of caffeine as he was brought more and more on edge with the urge to go back home and get another taste of what he so desperately craved, addiction in the form of saliva and lips and warmth a,,n d... He tried not to groan a second time and rather than tap out an irritated beat with his fingers he settled for jiggling his leg under the table while he tried to recreate the taste of Mathias with his imagination. He had found destruction beautiful, demolished buildings, rotting scenery, things that he couldn't touch but could admire from a far as it decayed in on itself or was taking apart piece by piece by man and perhaps that's how he found Mathias so...

Intriguing.

His own personal version of self destruction wrapped up in the fragile case of a human body but burned visibly from the inside out with the fuel of illness and something else he couldn't quite understand just yet.

He was thinking too much, perhaps he needed to stop listening to those tapes about 'what _ sounds like'. The one on schizophrenia fucked him up worse than anything else and he felt so desperate to understand what exactly whispered to Mathias. If it was what Lukas had claimed Mathias had, he hadn't seen any form of treatment around the apartment nor did he witness any episodes. It however made sense with all of the other problems his Dane had, the depression...personality issues...

Chewing on the inside of his cheek he sat back up, trying not to delve into it too much. He didn't need to focus on Mathias' flaws right now he just needed to focus on getting through the day and calm his god damn nerves. Everything was fine, he was fine, work was fine, the world however was not but he was fine for the time being and his universe in the body of wild blonde hair and even wilder blue eyes for all he knew was just as fine as he was at that moment.

However he wouldn't have a clue if his assumptions were to be correct until he went back home.

His leg started shaking again.

**xxx- mathias**

_He went through the scene a million times with the man who's name he never gave enough of a shit to learn the name of and now at the tender age of 14 and already figuring that people were shit the world was shit and he was quickly joining the scum humanity by that point and on his way to making rock bottom his bitch. Mathias gave the person who was apparently who he crawled out of the last slither of affection she'd ever experience before he slipped out the blade he'd been concealing in the sleeve of his sweater and dug it into her stomach, she dropped quickly and her red painted lips screamed out hoarsely, red the same colour as the stain spreading across her much too expensive dress and slipping onto the hardwood floors. Humans were weak, fragile and so easy to be damaged and Mathias had the pleasure to watch the false idea of strength die from those dark brown eyes that hardly resembled his own._

_The man he'd never cared to know about was the one to carry her from the room and into the lounge, a blanket draped across her midsection to hide the worst of the damage that now seeped into the leather and left a metallic smell in the air that Mathias had been trained up to be accustomed to ever since he was able to understand the meaning behind the word 'death'. After his father figure had come through with a slam of his new car door did he make sure that he gave him the same fate, however more gruesome with the knife pressed to his neck, the exact same knife he'd use to tear into his own body until it was blunt in later days. _

_He was congratulated by the man, told he did a fantastic job and was praised up but he didn't feel like he did even a good job at that. For fucks sake he just killed two people because he was simply told he had to. However as he was cleaned, redressed and told to wait until the right moment to pretend to panic and cry did he just accept things as they were and accept the fact that he was probably and most definitely mental if the pills he started popping before going to bed said anything. He'd left smiling knowing exactly what he'd done but entirely trusting in the abilities of the people who had taught him how to defend himself and eradicate the world of people who didn't deserve to share the same air as him and thankfully they'd lived up to his expectations and nobody even suspected the bright eyed and easy going blonde could ever swat a fly.  
_

He woke up with sweating his his hair and anything that could be counted as fabric to his clammy form and almost immediately began heaving with his nightmare of a life still caked in the corners of his eyes that held the painful reminder why he shouldn't ever do the sleep thing. Briefly Mathias noted he'd woken up entirely alone as was almost thankful for it as he made a full on collision into the tremors and desperate craving that sat on the ledge of withdrawal for the stupid fucking needle and white powder that he sold and worked for, lived and killed for, was too fucking reliant and addicted to, to be healthy in any shape or form. His feet were misplaced as he stumbled his way down the hall to the bathroom and his hands slid along the pristine white walls that acted as a support.

Bile rose in his throat and he was lucky enough to get his head over the toilet seat before he started gagging up absolutely fucking nothing but spit bile into the bowl that made stomach acid burn against the back of his teeth and it tasted filthy on his tongue and gave him mouth an overall shitty taste that reminded him of nights with too much cough syrup and on the better nights where a cock that made his throat raw from the desperation for money to pay for a fix that he now received at that drop of a hat as soon as he muttered his last name. Or if he were luckier a bat of an eyelash, either way you get the idea.

He thought himself pathetic for relying on such a stupid thing, though the need for it every three hours changed to three times a day ever since he'd met the object of his new addictions. A stoic brunette who swore he never smiled or laughed yet did exactly that whenever they spent time around each other. A healthier alternative to the belt and heroin and cocaine that made him smile just a little wider than he needed to, though Lars was stupid. Intelligent but so fucking stupid to have gotten involved with Mathias but he wasn't complaining. Oh no, there was nothing he was scared of more than losing Lars in any sense which was strange...he hadn't been scared in a very, very, very long time. Lars kept everything at bay, the voices the delusions the panic and mania he was able to keep Mathias more balanced than the Antipsychotics Mathias was very careful to hide and take only when he felt an attack building up so Lars wouldn't suspect anything and fuck he probably needed to take one at that moment.

Clozapine. Shitty stupid pills but whatever they kind of worked.

He'd give anything to keep him there and if it meant trying to sober up even a little he'd do whatever he could to make sure he'd make that promise reality. Though it wasn't really a promise, okay is just agreeing, if he'd said okay, I promise I won't, maybe then it'd be valid. Excuses excuses. He laughed bitterly before rolling up a Euro and sniffing up his sanity in the form of powder. Yeah he'd 'give it up' definitely. Totally. Of course he fucking wouldn't who did Lars think he was?

Mathias groaned and slammed his head against the sink, shakily downing the pills to keep him sane and having to accept the fact at some point he'd have to buy more and deal with the sympathetic looks of the Doctors who handed it over to him. Yeah he knew he was fucked up, really fucked up, batshit insane and he couldn't give less of a fuck half the time but as soon as people started pitying him and talking down to him for being mentally ill would he actually mind. Sighing Mathias sunk down to the ground, his knees brought up to his chest and rested his head on his arms while he waited for his medication to kick in. He regretted not being more convincing of keeping the Dutchman there with him, he wouldn't be feeling so shitty or scared or paranoid or so fucking lonely if he were still there. But he had a life he had friends and he had a job outside of Mathias and he couldn't deny him of that no matter how selfish he wanted to be most of the time and keep him all to himself.

Oh but Mathias needed him, he needed him so much to the point that the monsters in his head grew so loud until they overcame his entirety and became him, it was always the darkest when there was distance and he could have sworn he could feel that bitterness whispering on the edges of his conscious. He'd long since learnt how he'd been made into something of his own nightmares, parts of himself that make him uncomfortable varying from his weaknesses to his worst thoughts to his vanities and cravings were always sitting in the corner of his head, or rather sometimes in the corner of the room when he was with himself and the monster he'd created that pulsed through his veins. Too ugly to be anything in particular, not human and not himself but somehow it was him and it made him sick to his stomach. As a child he'd never been scared of the dark, because he knew monsters didn't hide under his bed or in his closet. He was scared of himself.

Because his own monsters hid where it mattered most.

Tipping his head back he stared at the lights on the ceiling until his vision grew blurry and his eyes heavy and he heaved himself up on aching muscles to the kitchen to indulge in the last part of his self prescribed medicine. A shot of Jaeger and a cup of coffee later he was feeling decently human and was able to actually do normal people things to pass the time.

xxx-Lars

He stretched his arms above his head just as a mocha appeared at his elbow and he looked up to smile appreciatively at whoever was the saint that gave him liquid salvation. Ludwig sat down wordlessly beside him with barely a nod and starting going through his own class schedules. Sighing to himself the Dutchman continued flicking through paper after boring paper and considered just telling his students to go do research on whatever for forty minutes or so, so he could get a proper break and preferably get his ass home.

However life didn't work that way and he was stuck worrying about Mathias in between trying to memorise what information he were to relay in the next class.

"What's he like?" Ludwig asked, his work put neatly to one side. "Mathias I mean, girls talk about him like there's nothing more important but it's all just gossip."

He blinked a few times trying to formulate a proper description and settled for shrugging. "Nothing like what they say. He's unbelievably strange. Really. Really. Weird. But a lot wiser than he looks."

"And you're in love with him."

"I...don't actually know." Lars rubbed the nape of his burning neck. One look at the German confirmed that red had rushed to his face. "Ye...ah?"

"There's nothing wrong with it don't look so worried."

He didn't really know what else to say, and busying his mouth with the coffee so his thoughts didn't reach his tongue he let himself feel just a mild tinge of dissatisfaction at his own vague answer to such an easy question. Mathias was beautiful just like he appeared on the glossy covers of magazines, his smile just as charming his eyes just as sultry but he was indeed beautiful in his thoughts, for the light bounce that came with his words and sparkle in his eye when he talked about something he enjoyed. He wasn't just weird, no matter how true it was it shouldn't have been the first thing to pop out of the Dutchman's mouth. If he were any different a man and not so damn socially awkward he would have said how Mathias' ability to make anybody smile or laugh was one of the most incredible things he'd ever witnessed even if deep within the Dane he wasn't feeling the same amusement or joy as they people around him. How not only was he something incredible on the surface...

But deep within him there was something even more radiant that it was impossible to describe in any language.

Though Lars was lucky enough that his company for the afternoon wasn't idiotic or blind and rather gave him a feather light smile out of fondness or recognition or something. It was a little mocking maybe that somebody younger than him would give him such a smile but he let it slide. He knew that Ludwig knew exactly how it was.

Well look at Feliciano.

Or don't.

"So why are you interested?" Lars said hesitantly, his fingertips digging into the edges of the paper to try and steady himself.

"It's not everyday you meet somebody who's slept with somebody famous." Ludwig's smile pulled his lips back to bare his teeth and the general effect was terrifying but he got up and left, taking that god forsaken grin with him and left Lars to relax...

Wait how the fuck did he know he'd slept with Mathias?

Biting his lip he watched the German leave him in a walk of absolute grace and staring down at his hands he tried to get his brain to compute with the fact that yes indeed that just happened and yes indeed it appeared the whole fucking work place knew he had his dick in one of the youngest multi-millionaires.

His last class for the day started just as Ludwig left and the students began filling in and swallowing thickly he began to explain the behaviours of sufferers Agoraphobia and tried not to pay attention to the people in the class that looked pointedly at him when he went into the specific symptoms.

"Sufferers rarely experience physical symptoms as most people with agoraphobia tend to stay clear of situations or environments that can cause them either anxiety or panic or even both to severe levels. However when they are triggered some symptoms can include uh hyperventilating, dizziness, feeling fain, ringing in the ears etcetera. Though if the physical symptoms are triggered they can end up fuelling the fear that people will notice the panic attack, that their heart might stop or that they can't breathe or even that the sufferer might be going insane."

"Sir is that what you have?" A petite blonde piped up.

"No Lili, it's just a little anxiety." He was waiting for that question to come up. They all knew he had something, more than once had he had to explain no it's not this no it's not that...just as he said 'a little anxiety'.

"But isn't that what Agoraphobia is sir? An extreme case of anxiety?"

"It's a different kind of anxiety now would you mind if I continued on teaching the class Miss Vogel?"

"No sir."

"Danke. Anyway continuing on, behavioural symptoms can range from anything however the most obvious are one, or more, of the four. Avoidance. Reassurance. Multiple forms of safety behaviour and Escapism.."

xxx

There was something buzzing under the Dane's skin when he kissed the back of his neck in a welcoming. Like static energy it was keeping him super charged like the after taste of adrenaline and it had Mathias tensing instantaneously and his muscles locked together and froze before he caught air of who exactly was placing sloppy pecks along the curve of his neck.

"Don't scare me like that idiot." Mathias chuckled, turning around he littered his own affections over the corner's of his mouth. "How was work?"

"Boring? How was being lazy going for you?"

"Watch it I'm flying out tomorrow." A flick to the forehead signalled mild irritation but he didn't appear to be hurt. Lars caught his hand and continued his kisses down the lengths of his fingers to the queen like slant to his wrists. "I'll leave you alone for tonight if you keep being mean."

"Sorry your majesty." He chuckled against skin stretched tight over sharp bones. Mathias pulled away with an eye roll and rose from his seat.

"Have you ever been to a strip club?" Mathias said over his shoulder, turning on the sound system as he beamed at the Dutchman. The tune was slow and the flow of smoke from incense seemed to ghost along with it in time. "And not one of those cheap things I mean a good one."

"Never been to any sort of strip club."

"Ah you're too vanilla to be a stoner or fucking me, anyway." The Dane wandered back over, a sway in his hips and step after purposeful step accentuating it in time with the slow beat. "I guess you don't understand what a private dance is so...the includes no touching...at all. You just sit back and let me ravish you without ravishing you."

"Why the sweet treatment?" Lars said as he took a seat per request.

"Just giving you a little something for looking after me so well...and cause you know I've got work to do." There was something on his face Lars couldn't quite read but it was quickly replaced with a heat in his eyes and a swipe of his tongue as he took a spot on the Dutchman's knees. "How long can you resist temptation I wonder?"

"And where did you learn this?"

"I lived on the streets for how long Lars?" He chuckled, nuzzling his face against the crook of Lars' neck his breath ghosted over his skin and left behind a pleasant tingle. "I learnt a few things...when I needed money. I was stupid to think I was poor then when all I needed to do was check what was left behind for me. But it taught me some very...very valuable skills."

The rotating of Mathias' hips was sultry enough to be classed as illegal, his hands travelled down each other bodies in the exact same manner. Plucking the buttons through both of their shirts with quiet snaps, working from the bottom to the top and the slip of fabric of erotic enough as it was. His legs were spread on either side of the Dutchman's thighs, knees bumping against his hips and the fluid movement of the Dane's body travelled from the languid lick of his tongue against his lips to the shift of his legs. Lars was utterly hypnotised by the smolder in Mathias' eyes to the slight part of his lips and slender fingers that smoothed down the gyrating of his hips.

Their shirts equally remained open, Mathias' barely hanging onto his shoulders as he knelt closer, his head hanging over the Dutchman's, forcing Lars' head to tilt back to keep eye contact. Mathias' eyes remained dark and hooded, a dangerous glint in the upturn of his lips as Lars clawed at the pillows behind him for some form of self control when the other began to roll his hips again in mid air. Contact between them kept to a bare minimal and remaining just between their legs as Mathias let his hands wander over his own sides, his chest, the dip of his neck and collarbones. He dipped back eventually, his shirt falling to the ground with a whisper just as his own hands pulled at his hair and accentuated the angle of his neck.

Lars whined at the back of his throat as indeed the temptation was becoming too much to resist. His arousal tugged painfully at his jeans while Mathias sat up further, removing his trousers to expose his own hard on and he swallowed thickly finding it unfair how he couldn't indulge the twitching of his fingers on the curves of the Dane's body.

Mathias settled in his lap, the circular motion of his hips now full contact against his own and again another embarrassing whine was drawn from the Dutchman's throat. Lars' eyes rolled back in his head when the other's filthy tongue licked up the length of his neck and flicked at his earlobe, a chuckle vibrating off the end of his tongue and sending goosebumps to rise on the back of Lars' neck. Bitten down nails clawed down the Dutchman's shoulders, ridding him of his shirt in the process and left angry, uneven marks on his skin.

At that moment did Lars give into the thirst for contact and pull the Dane in for a deep mesh of lips and tongue and teeth. The massaging and clicks of their teeth turned wetter and desperation rose in the roll of tongues as Mathias' rutting grew slower, more profound and purposeful in the search for delicious friction.

Mathias whispered into his mouth along with the steady beat of the song. "_Heat from the sun somedays slowly passes..._" He broke off in a short moan when they rubbed together just right. "_Until then, you have to live with yourself._"

Lars held on tight to the underside of the Dane's thighs, and drinking in the lyrics for himself did he stand up and take Mathias to bed. Trying to keep his footing from ending them both sprawled across the floor and with great care and mild concentration did he manage to get through to the closest bedroom and dump the other on the sheets. Mathias' legs automatically came up to curl tighter around his waist and he remained proud at how their lips managed to stay locked the entire time from travelling to the lounge to what Lars suspected to be his own room. And indeed when he patted around in the bedside drawer, pulling away only to look for lubricant and take of his jeans it was confirmed that the sheets Mathias was stretched out across were his own.

The Dane continued to sing to himself to the faint ending of the song from the lounge as he dragged his fingers up his own erection and hisses through his teeth as he pulled his lip through them. Mathias pivoted when Lars came back his fingers cold with lube that only warmed up once they were working inside of the Dane. Lars scraped his teeth down the back of the Dane's neck, tonguing the worryingly bony grooves of his spine as he stretched him open and oh how he was ready to feel that heat all over again.

He'd never get bored of this.

He coated his cock in more lube, jerking his hand over it once to smooth it all over and was barely able to contain his shaking of anticipation. The excitement that ran deep and pulsed through his system drove him deep, past the Dane's entrance and he only just had enough time to remember to try and find his prostate before he pushed in completely, his chest pressed against Mathias' arching back and his nose nuzzled within the nest of unruly hair.

The wet slapping of skin was barely audible over how fucking vocal Mathias was, his moans ones of pure unadulterated lust and Lars could feel his toes curling at the edges of his legs every time he brushed against the single bundle of nerves that drove the heady moans to choking begs for something more. His hips stuttered in a resemblance of a pattern, trying to mimic the same rhythmic rolling that came from the blonde under him. With every slow drag out and a sharp snap in proved it still wasn't enough to sate either of their needs.

Quicker he penetrated the blonde until they were both reduced to nothing more than hushed groans laced with shaky pants for air. Mathias trembled and tightened around him, a call of his name or something sounding similar coming hoarse from the Dane as he came, entirely untouched and Lars would have felt some form of victory at causing the other to reach release from nothing more than his cock. That would have been if he wasn't stifling his moan against the back of the other's neck.

He found it cute how Mathias mumbled to him brokenly in Danish, the language making absolutely no sense to Lars who snickered against his shoulder blade in between peppering kisses down trails of freckles. Eventually Mathias' tongue caught up with his brain and he was able to create sentences in a language the Dutchman could actually understand.

"You didn't follow the rules you dick."

"Yeah yeah I don't see you complaining." He muffled another laugh against the dip between the other's shoulders.

"Sssh...hhhh." Mathias flopped his arm back in an attempt to hit the Dutchman who simply caught his arm and turned him back around so Mathias was lying on his back beside him. "Dick...you're a dick..."

"I know."

"I have work you dick."

"I know."

"I have work in a little less than eight hours you dick."

"How long are you going to keep calling me a dick for."

"Dick, dick, dick, dick."

"Very mature Mathias."

xxx

He was gone in the morning, only managing to keep Lars awake long enough to kiss him deep enough with the lingering hints of another to be continued chapter to each of their lives that would be left to be written and finished at a later date. After Lars had drifted back into unconsciousness and was rudely awoken by the screeching of his phone and bolting up he looked over to where his blackberry sat on top of a parcel suspiciously in the shape of a book and well something else. He smiled fondly, turned off his phone and tore open the brown packaging to finger the gold lettering against the black leather bound cover.

However the other gift that was inside the package made his cheeks burn scarlet and pressing his lips together he pulled out the stuffed bunny with it's soft fluffy ears and pure white fluff and almost swore at the silver thread that spelt out his own name on it's left paw. It appeared Mathias listened more than he gave him credit for and tucking it under his chin and hugging it close the way a child would a safety blanket he grinned to himself and took to flicking open the first page of the book. A note fluttered out onto his lap and struggling to read the scrawled writing he figured it wasn't meant to be fully understood, the language not one he spoke and later when he wasn't already running late for work would he search for a translation.

_Lars.  
You bring light to the darkest parts of me_  
_And numb the troubled mind that is unable to be seen through this calm exterior_  
_You numb it with an unexplainable happiness  
It's strange  
I used to think I was ready to love the world  
when I was younger  
but it didn't treat me the same way so I began to  
hate everything  
nothing understood me at all  
but then you came along with your stupid hair and stupid green eyes  
and stupid stupid beautiful accent and ponderous words that  
I began to find a new world to love_  
_I love I love I love I love I love I love..._


	13. Eating away at the days

im so sorry about this being so late I've been drowning in school work/friend things that I haven't had the time and ah so sorry  
anyway I might end this soon, it's going to be hard to end it nicely but I think people are getting a little restless at the moment so ye  
hope you guys are having a lovely time  
thanks for all the kind reviews and comments too

(so sorry if this is edited horribly it's nearly 4am and I need sleeeeeep) I'll work on it tomorrow pinky promise)

**Girls Like You - The Naked and Famous**

* * *

He dreamt about Mathias the whole night, the whole week and the whole month and a half he was left without a taste of his darling Dane. He dreamt of that scars, tattoos and constellations of freckles that decorated his pale skin. He dreamt of eyes like the ocean that would switch from calm to hell with the direction of the wind. And he dreamt of those strange cryptic words that would pour from Mathias' thin lips and embrace him like a sin, a curse and a miracle. He'd wake up alone, daylight warming the frown he always found on his face when the realisation hit him every morning that come day he was torn away from his Mathias who he woke up without and could only touch in his dreams.

Stupid how the hours and days of separation are what it took to show him just how deep he was in this. Each time the Dane spent longer and longer with him was pure bliss, every moment they weren't near each other... Well it reminded him how big the risk of was of losing him. It was torment. His hands longed for his warmth and the best he could do to find anything similar to him was to press one of his shirts to his face, trying not to feel like a creep while he tapped out ash to keep his hands occupied with something resembling that warmth.

His work had been mindless, the world around him dull and he tried not to think about how harrowing it was that he remained entirely dependant on somebody who was hardly ever there. He taught classes on a numb tongue, and a numb mind and felt like a stranger to the 30 odd people who filled the lecture hall when they were acquired to be there. It was rather pathetic that he was so immersed in his own self pity that he felt like he didn't know a single face in a room of people he'd talked at and to for nearly a full year. When he grew too restless when he was away from his students he would find his fingers wandering over lead sketches of sharp cheek bones and dead eyes. It unnerved him how as the weeks progressed the what used to be so soft drawings turned into thicker lines, sharper angles, and the deadness in the eyes spread to the rest of the facial features until every line was oozing with an emotion he couldn't quite explain. The nights and afternoons he'd spent chucking his notebook away when he found himself too immersed in the little details morphed into him spending days without touching it to start anew and rip out the pages so the memory of them wouldn't be burned into his retinas.

He started to hum to himself when he began to draw after that, to stop himself to thinking and to keep the strokes of his pencil point light and soft. Eventually it began to reflect the all consuming longing that had been eating away at him since the Dane's departure.

Codependency was wearing him down to his rawest form and it was driving him insane.

No it wasn't codependency it was love, there. He admitted it. It was love. The hellish feeling that kept him up until he dropped and tarnished his appetite was love. Time passed to slowly for his impatient nerves, it passed to quickly when it mattered most and seemed to stretch on for eternity when he'd accepted it in all it's mentally destroying glory.

In his fitful last effort to find a way to let his mind be he agreed to meet up with his sister. Sitting on her porch with a mug of coffee one hand and a marlboro in the other he watched the wind card through the grass. Everything she was mindlessly chattering about went through one ear and out the other but he was content enough to say that the melancholy thoughts that had left him a little breathless had come to a halt and he was at peace. And perhaps just a little more than wistful listening to the soft murmur coming from his sister as he chain smoked until he was sure his lungs were about to give out. It was becoming increasing evident that he still craved another's company.

He jolted when he felt a pair of legs wind around his shin. Looking up questionably at Alice he raised a brow.

"You're not paying attention to me."

"You have my full attention."

"Nooo you've gotten all dreamy eyed. What're you thinking about?"

He shrugged and she leant forward as if what words were about to leave her mouth would be carried away by the wind and lost to his ears. "You remember that boy you used to write about in high school. The one that was only there for a day?"

How could he forget. He nodded.

"I have a feeling he might have found you again and you didn't even realise it." Alice's smile was as soft as her tone as she covered his hands with her own. "I was talking to Mathias about his high school life and he mentioned that he'd done not even a single day's worth of work in a school in the Netherlands."

Oh.

"And I asked where. He gave me the name of your school."

Holy shit.

"He said he said there was a boy who was probably the first normal human being to talk to him in nearly a whole year. Isn't that incredible? And his description of the boy was...unbelievably uncanny to you."

Why didn't he trust his gut.

"Lars I think the next time you see him you need to ask him about it but I could have sworn that everything he's ever said, and compared to those poems you used to leave on the backs of napkins _as if he'd find them_... I have a feeling both stories line up."

He'd only talked about that day once with the Dane, Mathias who kept his eyes down the entire time and smiled and nodded when it was his cue to do so but otherwise remained entirely and surprisingly quiet while he talked. Mathias who brought up knowing him at another point of time before Lars had moved in on very few occasions and each time the more he thought about it, it should have been obvious, the way he'd speak about the topic as if there was something Lars _should have_ noticed. Mathias who held the same scars and a little extra that he'd covered up with permanent drawings as opposed to the ink of a ball point pen that would wash off.

Fucking hell how could he have been so blind. The veil dropped from his eyes and suddenly nearly everything made sense.

"He's been at work so I don't know when I can bring it up." He slipped his hands out from under his sister's and ran them through his hair. Leg shaking under the table and teeth biting the skin of his lip raw he tried to keep an anxiety laced irritation laced anger attack from forming. "When the fuck did you think it would be a good time to tell me this?"

"He only told me this last night." She said. Lars looked up, nostrils flared.

"Excuse me?"

"He was over last night."

"He hasn't been home in a month and the first person he thought to talk to was you?"

"I guess." As he rose from his seat Alice mimicked the action and held a hand to his arm. "Lars don't be mad he seemed pretty desperate to tell somebody something. Look he's probably home or something now but he looked like he was in pretty bad shape."

"He's always in bad shape."

"Lars-"

"What."

"He was terrified."

Without a word he left on shaky legs with an even shakier mind.  
He just hoped to god Mathias was back home.

xxx

_"If there were a god Lars..." Mathias smiled distantly and curled in closer to his knees. "He'd be begging for my forgiveness."_

xxx

He had come home to Mathias being fucked by some lumbering Scandinavian once, he'd come home to him drunk and dancing by himself in the middle of the living room, he'd found him crying alone fully clothed under the fall of shower water and he'd found him hanging off the edge of the balcony on the verge of taking a leap with his clothes billowing in the wind like he had wings. However none of that would have prepared him for this.

Lars Peeters had never been ready to find Mathias with a bottle of whiskey between his teeth, a cigarette still burning on the edge of the bathtub and his hands trembling around his own neck as he massaged thickly forming bruises as if enough rubbing would make them go away. Purple and blue created a definite ring around his pale neck and ate away at the galaxy of freckles and pure white. It was disgusting at most to see him so ruined, to see a man who looked invincible bruised by something or rather somebody Lars didn't know. His hoarse voice had him paying more attention to the words rather than the ruined flesh of the Dane's neck.

"What do you see in me. Disgust? Greed? Vanity?"

He sat down beside him, his own thoughts flowing freely on his tongue. The Dutchman saw no point in lying. "I think you see yourself as heartless. But you have one, tainted with god knows what and I probably won't find out but...It's pretty admirable how ashamed you are to show you feel too much. But there's hatred there beside all the fluffy shit, a queer kind of darkness."

"How romantic." Mathias muttered, grinding a cigarette against the marbled floors.

"Why do you think I see hate Mathias?"

Mathias appeared to be on the verge of turning his chin up at his attempt of psychoanalysing. "Because there's nothing beautiful or to be loved in this filthy world. And I'm just one of the few that are comfortable with it." He continued wrapping his hands around his own neck, the bruises too big to be made by his own hands. Lars pulled his hands away and made the Dane keep them at his sides. "I hate that I don't hate you, and I hate that you don't hate me."

He blatantly ignored the last sentence. "Like I said I also see fear. You're scared to say what you feel."

"I feel like you know me better than I want to know myself Lars." The bitterness sang through clearly.

"Your fear and your hatred...nee.." Lars rubbed his hands over his face trying to word it properly. Funny for a poet to not know how to say something to put another at ease. "It's terrifying, you are fucking terrifying sometimes and unbelievably strange...but beautiful. Everything aside you're still beautiful."

"You have a twisted sense of beauty then."

"You're not too much better."

Perhaps it wasn't the mystery that left the sweet taste on his tongue, oh so tempting like a forbidden fruit that would be heavenly to bite into. It was rather the fact he saw something else that even he was much too scared to say out loud. Despite the other's usually cool exterior and happy smiles and curious words there was something else brewing in there, something else he could say he had the pleasure of nipping at, smoothing his tongue over to catch the taste without getting the full experience of consuming. Lars...would be foolish to say he loved him despite of it, rather in spite of it, because of this...thing he loved him because of it. Maybe. It made the Dane's mouth something akin to weaponry, a mouth full of a sharp tongue and sentences full of shrapnel. The taste of cyanide on his skin was addictive in a way his words could not but that wasn't to say he was a saint. He was confused about this man who knew him since he was a boy, he was unsure of what to make of it. Meeting Mathias so many years later with his first memory being something so faded into history he struggled regretfully to remember it.

Lars couldn't remember when he pulled out the pen and started drawing all over the Dane's curled legs. Some time during his thinking he must have but he didn't stop even when he came back to reality instead of the world made up of pondering and considerations. He could feel Mathias lazily watching from above him as he drew lines between the darkest freckles on his legs, creating his own constellations on the Dane's calves and up his knees to where the fabric of his three quarter sweatpants disrupted his paths. Carefully he inked out names of each little collection of lines and dots once they created some kind of shape and moved on. Only when he felt a cigarette butt at his lips did he look up to the heavy gaze of the blonde who's smile for one brilliant moment actually met his eyes.

"Mathias did you know we'd already met?" He said quickly, almost wanting to swallow them back up again when he saw dejection touch that heart stopping smile.

"Yes."

"Did you know who I was when you first saw me?"

"Yes."

That was all he needed to hear for the time being. The itch at the back of his throat was beaten down and numbed with truth and he was alright with that. For now. One less hidden truth out in the open, one less thing to toss and turn about unconsciously. He went back to sketching on the other's skin before quietly requesting something long overdue. Later he'd think about how childish it sounded, a phrase he hadn't needed to say since high school and he would have regretted asking in the way he did if it weren't for the reply. "...Mathias will go out with me."

"I thought I already was." He grinned and leant forward until their lips were pressed together, he could feel the other smile against their meld and an airy chuckle flowed into his own parted lips. "You idiot of course I will."

It seemed like the right moment for confessions, his new-found and brief confidence already running his mouth and his brain. Mathias slipped away back to his previous position against the bathtub and Lars took his hand in his, letting his fingers brush over the new wounds marring his knuckles. Out of the corner he watched the steady rise and fall of the Dane's chest and eventually the surprisingly bashful smile that spread across his cheeks. He mouthed the words quietly to himself, testing the weight of them before his voice caught up with him.

"I love you."

"I think I love you too."

"Good."

"Nej. Perfect."

He found the other heart to fuse to his own to create that ridiculous stereotypical shape of the organ.  
Lars knew..  
Things always ended.  
To hope that they would last was idiotic and stupid.  
If they didn't, his tobacco wouldn't run out and Mathias' laughter wouldn't be always be punctuated with a frown...  
...and the honey moon phase wouldn't keep on coming and going at it's leisure due to each of their mood swings.  
It was cold hard truth that nothing lasted, but with their hands tangled together and in such a strange, strange world with such a strange man with a strange life he started to withdraw from prying into once he had what he needed he could almost pretend that this would. For once he believed it. They wanted each other to the point the needed each other and they needed each other so obsessively it became a want.

He'd seen both the hideously disturbing and breathtakingly beautiful sides of Mathias. And despite what scared him he staying.

xxx

Mathias sat on the counter, swinging his legs against the cupboard doors while picking absently at a rice ball, chicken and rice sticking to fingers where his tongue couldn't catch it. Lars watched those thin legs kick against the wood like it wasn't even there, completely bare to the chilly morning in a pair of briefs. He was unlucky enough to not be granted the sight of the Dane shirtless. He would curse that jersey if it weren't for the fact that he'd managed to pull his own attention to the thick bands of discolouration colouring the other's neck.

"So you're not going to tell me how you got the bruises." He said moving up beside him while he made himself something to drink. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the other smile and shake his head.

"Nope!"

"Ever?"

"Never ever." He smiled wide. "A man's got to have some private life. Speaking of, are you going to tell me about the job offer?"

He nearly swallowed his own tongue. "How do y-"

"You got another letter a week ago, don't worry I accepted it for you."

"I-"

Mathias held up a hand to cut him off. "And before you say anything I know exactly why you didn't accept it and don't worry I'm coming with you."

"But your jo-"

"Is in any country they need me I only moved to Frankfurt because it's a nice city. Trust me it's fine I've got a studio and everything so you can do your artwork and I can put glow and the dark paint on the walls once it's been painted."

"Mathias you-"

"Really shouldn't have yeah yeah I know but hey! Good thing you'll be getting paid more now you can buy yourself alcohol and more weed while I sort out the re-"

Lars practically swung the other off the counter to press their lips together, one to silence the bullshit pouring out of the Dane's mouth and one just for the sake of it. He couldn't show gratitude any other way than that. How would you show your appreciation to a man who already has it all anyway? That aside Mathias responded with a laugh and continued to press against him, his hands fisted in his hair and his lips moving just as tenderly as Lars'. The Dutchman caught a piece of rice on his tongue that had been stuck to the corner of the blonde's lips before pulling back and trying his hardest not to start blushing like a bloody school girl.

Well he couldn't really help how red his cheeks were, or how big his smile was, or how he may or may not have unfortunately started bouncing on the spot.

"I could fucking murder and-and-and do a lot to you right now Mathias."

"I don't think that would be the best I still have to go in for photos tomorrow but hey."

"But your bruises..."

"Can be hidden with heavy make up, photoshop and or a scarf it's no biggy." The Dane cupped the edges of Lars' face, grin bright enough to be one that would light up the entire city. "Isn't this great we're moving to _Belgium_."

"I know!"

"Your sister's from Belgium."

"I...know?"

"She...could...show...us around!" He murmured between placing pecks everywhere on the Dutchman's face.

"Mathias you idiot I know that country like the back of my hand." Lars lightly took a swipe at his shoulder and backed away. "So when do we move?"

"Well...That depends on stuff but I.."

"You...?"

"What makes you think I know how all that works? We'll need to go furniture shopping and stuff though." He hummed and threw his rubbish in the general direction of the trash.

"Furniture shopping? What about all of this."

"Lars...all of this is staying right here so we have something to come back to if we're ever here."

He blinked. "Isn't that...expensive?"

"It would be to your pocket. Literally nothing to mine now, we need to talk styles. I say paint the roof and walls black in the bedroom and lounge and string up fairy lights."

"Why?"

"Stars dumbass, something for you to look at when you're stoned. I think we can just go to...ugh IKEA but other than that I think we'd be sorted."

"My...clothes?"

"You can bring them with you unless you want me to buy you clothes which I'm totally down with."

Lars chuckled under his breath and as Mathias hopped down to earth to claim the deck he stayed where he was with the mug of coffee near burning his hands. He'd fallen hard for the echo of a boy he'd once met, with smudged and smoky messages written up and down his forearms he'd made the fatal mistake of reading, understanding and inhaling greedily. He'd swallowed down the strangeness and unanswerable questions and they claimed his system and stuck like glue to the end of his thoughts. He made the mistake of consuming what he could from the Dane, he made the fatality of letting Mathias stamp his name all over the Dutchman's heart.

And still nearly nine years later it was still the description of the sad voice and and hesitant half smiles that found it's way onto the back of napkins, with the additions to his exterior, with the additions to his interior, with the additions to everything new he'd learnt about the kid that sneaked his way into his class. Years of an unfathomable longing for a boy he'd known for all of thirty minutes had been cut short as soon as he'd stumbled unknowingly into the very person who's started it.

He was different to every idea and hope he'd pinned to the once nameless boy, he'd pictured him dark haired dark eyed and a wonkier smile with an even wonkier personality. But no, Mathias was light haired held the ocean in his eyes and had a smile that made him inevitably drawn to him. He held a reckless nature, contained an air of amorous freedom that he indulged in, or once did. The poems and quick sketches of passerbys that he used to fill the void of who the boy might have been were nothing compared to the divine spirit who animated wonder. Consumption. Desirable. Something unavoidable. Something that belonged alongside the stars.

He felt like an astronomer admiring him from a far.  
But he was so close that he was singed by how intensely he burned.

Lars loved unmade beds, so when they left Mathias' bed the Dane's finger's twitching for coffee and his face contorted up in a pain he didn't and possibly would never understand the meaning of. He loved how Mathias sat and listened as Lars spoke of the things he loved about Mathias with a smile and a single tear as a poets words left the Dutchman in sentences he wouldn't have thought to have spoken months before, but had said with a nervous tongue at Mathias' bedside the night before. Lars loved when Mathias was drunk and on the verge of tears because then he was so honest to the Dutchman and to himself about his thoughts and feelings, his fingers would be at the brunette's chest scrambling for a rock, a centre, an anchor to keep him rooted when his world became to cave in on him and he was given a lethal dose of reality. He spoke of how he loved the way his hair was flat and his face bare of the make up mask when he would first wake up and forgotten where he was and who he was with and for how a few moments he'd speak in mumbled Danish until his brain ticked over to a language they both spoke. He loved the way how his eyes would close when he took a drag from the first smoke of the day and he would drift somewhere above the skies along with the smoky trail where he wouldn't be able to be touched by the corrupt and dangerous world they lived in. He loved his honesty in his most vulnerable moments and who no matter how he tried to cover it up he could never truly mask the way he felt behind his charming smile and tailored suits.

But most of all he loved the look in the Dane's eye when he first realised he was in love with Lars. It might have been when they had first made love, it may have been hours earlier when Mathias first admitted it. Whenever it was he was happy to have been able to catch that glint of unadulterated emotion in the wildness of the sea.

Mathias waved at him through the sliding doors, gesturing for him to join him and pushing away from the kitchen he stood at the Dane's side and watched the city go on far, far, far below them. He didn't know at what point Mathias had tangled their fingers together but he took comfort from it for it felt as if the hungry feeling and the lonely feeling that had been eating at him for so long had suddenly merged into something more addictive, it was hard to tell them apart.  
Well they would have been if he didn't feel needed for once.

"What do you do for a living beside the whole modelling thing." He spoke his thoughts again and tried to swallow them back up and prayed the ground would gobble him up too.

"I deal drugs." He said nonchalantly, his eyes glued to the tops of tourist's heads.

"Thought so."

And that was that. Mysteries shot down and answered and now he could sleep at night.

"Lars." The way he said the Dutchman's name sent shivers through his spine, so breathless. He turned to face him and he couldn't tell if his eyes were watering from the sting of smoke or he was..crying. However the other didn't look back, just kept his eyes to the sky and continued to talk. "You won't ever hate me will you?"

He sighed. "Don't be stupid."

"That's all I needed to hear." His face was calm but his cheeks grew wetter. The faint ginger glow of the sun did nothing to hide the heaviness that made the other's eyes restless.

Humans are...curious creatures. They seek out meaning, wanting some kind of reason to everything and a reply to every question to give them some clarity. Human desperately sought out their own significance with twists of words and deep thoughts in the hopes that they'd discover it. And here Lars was indulging the human characteristic of wondering what the hell was going on, and in particular what was running through the Dane's head. But since when wasn't he wondering that. Maybe it was the sadness that claimed the other's tone and made a tear roll down his cheek. Maybe it was the sudden drop of the other's mood that made little to no sense. He could have used his words, his extensive knowledge of language to try and pull whatever it was out into the open. Dissect it a bit, numb the pain afterwards and reassure the other he would be fine. But he didn't know what to say or how to go about it or what exactly the other's reaction would be and respite the new found confidence and honesty between the two of them he wasn't sure he'd get what he wanted.

So he held onto the Dane's hand tighter and loved him more than he thought it could just hoping it'd dull out his frustration and simply accepted the fact.

He wouldn't know.

But the tightening of his grip was responded to with an equal squeeze from Mathias and the blonde tucked himself against Lars' arm, smoke pouring freely from his lips as he sighed in relief. The content smile he wore was enough to light up the darker parts of the Dutchman's doubts and he couldn't imagine for a minute why anybody could possibly hate him. The initial feeling of bliss came back and he would admit in the sappiest and most cliché manner that yes, despite a strange sense of dread he felt complete clarity and the notion of purpose became evident. To keep him safe. And to wipe away the tears that words could not with the kind of intimacy Lars selfishly hoped he'd be the only one to grant Mathias. Together with hands held tight and feeling like the only two people in the city, the country, the world. The city merrily background music to their own film. Words came to silence, intention fell dead and everything and nothing made sense. Lars wouldn't know why he was sad, what kept the blonde up at night, why it was so painfully obvious that the other hadn't slept for at least three days, or why the insurmountable wave of despair had decided to wash over Mathias at that exact moment. But he knew how to calm his heartbeat. He fumbled on trying to take away that sadness but against all odds he was still able to comfort him. He knew he loved with the salt water on Mathias' cheeks and oh how he'd fallen into a deep adoration with the sea.

The most blissful of all of life's luxuries was caught in between them as Mathias cried silently against him.

_I love, I love, I love._...


	14. You just know

Shit this is really late I'm so sorry school just started again and blah anyway I'll start back up the Sunday pattern again after the con next weekend  
I keep on getting ideas for this that change if I'm going to stretch it out or finish it soon and really I might go with the flow for a bit until i come up with a solid end haha if you guys have any requests or ideas feel free to shoot me a message!  
Hope things have been amazing for you lovelies see you soon!

**The Neighbourhood - Cry me a river/say my name**

* * *

The Dutchman barely slept the night Mathias came back, it wasn't from how he would have liked to have spent his night but rather from hearing a quiet howl of anguish coming from the hall and the occasional loud retching. Unsurprisingly Mathias was still up when Lars dragged himself out of bed to the screeching of his alarm and he was thanking the gods for him existing as he could hear the sound of mugs being put on the counter and the espresso machine purring. He crept up behind him, hearing the slightest chuckle as in he banging into the side of counter in his sleepy state. Well there goes the element of surprise. Lars tucked in behind the blonde, his hands slipping up under the other's shirt, effectively untucking it from his trousers to press his hands against the other's chest and reel him backwards.

"Hmmm g'morning." He mumbled into the back of Mathias' neck, fingers lazily tracing the plains of his chest and slight hinting of rib under his skin.

Mathias hummed in response but said nothing more, not even when Lars littered affection down the arc of his neck, thickly layered make up covering up what it could of the bruises so they weren't as noticeable. And again after inhaling a little too deeply did he register the Dane was smoking inside again.

"What's wrong?"

"Huh? Oh nothing just tired." The easy lie was enough that Lars nearly choked as soon as the other had said it. Really. He wasn't that stupid. He could only just make out the edge of his lip curving up around his cigarette. "Forgot to sleep again, anyway you need to go get ready for work I'm leaving in five minutes."

Lars plucked it out from between the other's lips and took a drag, a strange bitter tinge flavouring the butt that made him turn his eyes down to the glass of half empty juice sitting near the sink alongside a bottle of gin. For some amazing reason he didn't believe Mathias for a second. He finished the other's smoke for him and slipped it down the drain before skimming his hands up and down the length of the other's arms to hold his hand. He was made up of smoky lungs, scars and deep words the only difference was now Lars was free to hold his hand and god was he happy about it. He heard the Dane sigh happily and lace his fingers through the other's tightly and they fit perfectly against his own. The galaxies cowering in their bones had their stars shining bright as an equal sense of adoration or...no it was love that was set alight and burning between them. He breathed through lungs weighed down with parasites and saw through eyes filtered through a lens of monochrome and Lars worshipped, adored and respected everything about him. His hobbies included editing a novel about his life, he hid his feeling and thoughts behind metaphors and sometimes it felt like in his moments of weakness every word and breath was a way of convincing his shadow to stay with him, it felt as if he didn't know Lars was following him on his heels. The string of fate wound so tightly that they were mere inches from melding into each other.

Though it seemed as if Mathias was scared of his inner corrosion spilling into the lives of people who pass him by. Whoever invented the idea of languages hadn't anticipated the creation of the Dane who didn't fit the description of any existing word or easy sentence.

However if Lars was half the poet he thought himself to be he would have told him he'd picked up what had managed to seep through the layers of confidence, of a masked personality and careful sentences and was working to rid it of the impurities before giving it back to him.

A throaty chuckle brought him out of his state of mind and he smiled to himself, giving the other's hand one last squeeze before tearing off to shower and get ready for the day, the bathroom smelt like something sour, an indication and reminder from whatever the other was doing the night before. He'd left the window open while he finished off pulling out his small collection of clothes for something decent and at least clean to wear to work, going back the stench was a little more tolerable and was made pretty much undetectable once he'd sprayed a little deodorant. He could hear a faint apology coming from the other side of the door before he stepped into the spray of shower water.

By the time he was done he was left alone in their home with a new mug on the bench, and thankfully the contents inside was still warm.

xxx

This time when he found a cup of coffee and a brown paper bag at his side it wasn't from the thick hands of his German workmate but rather the undeniably familiar freckled hands of somebody entirely different. He looked up, bewildered as Mathias smiled down at him, eyes flickering to his face to the piece of art he was working on. Nothing too spectacular.

"It's my lunch break so I thought I could give you a little piece of heaven. That's amazing by the way." He gestured to the canvas before pulling himself onto the table and sipping at his own drink. "I thought you taught psychology?"

"Yeah I do, it's just...a break I guess between teaching nobody comes in here." Lars put his pencil down and sat back, arms stretched above his head. "Who told you where I was by the way?"

"German kid, I think he was one of the lecturers here from the way he was dressed." Mathias' fingers drummed against the cardboard. "They're pretty young here."

"Yeah they were kind of desperate when they started hiring I think. How's pouting in front of a camera going for you?"

"Spectacular the smell of vomit and tears is always a highlight to my day." He started to tug on the Dutchman's sleeve. "Lets go outside come on it's beautiful out."

"It's raining."

"Exactly. Now lets go."

Lars sighed and packed all his things into his bag, a jersey stuffed somewhere under assignments and his sketchbook. His irritation melted away at the million dollar smile he was given in response to giving into the Dane's wishes. He was relieved for the fact most of the others that would have been lurking the halls had hidden themselves away in libraries or lecture halls meaning they were free to quickly take off out into the freezing cold. However he wasn't anticipating a familiar blonde from one of his classes to pull out into one of the halls and stop dead in her tracks once she'd processed who Lars' partner was. Mathias laughed at his side at her reaction and nodded in her direction and Lars could see her physically melt at the attention, he tried to ignore the possessiveness that flared in his chest, and even the petty glare he sent in his student's direction as he dragged the other through the halls a little more roughly than he was before.

They said nothing as the Dutchman continued to tug his counterpart to somewhere a lot more secluded and with a lot less shelter from the icy pelts of water that flattened their hair against their heads. By the time he'd pulled Mathias around the corner arrogance was sitting heavily on the Dane's shoulders and his cigarette packet was quickly becoming his best friend. The warmth of Mathias' arm was torn away and used to keep his flame from going out as he set another addiction on fire.

Mathias sagged against the dripping bricks, his smile gone as he watched behind him. His nails clawed at his forearm through his thick coat, the hand not doing anything curled unnaturally at his sides, fingers splayed and twitching...it was almost psychotic. The twitching and visible sheen of sweat across the other's forehead pointed to the signs of withdrawal. The bags under his eyes from lack of sleep...the nights waking up to hearing the other crying down the hall as he emptied his guts into the toilet bowl... He was lucky to have told the other to give up the hard self medication when he had the chance or else this would have been a lot worse, he was disgustingly happy with the fact that the blonde had found it in himself to go through with it. Lars watched a leaf the most startling shade of red he'd ever seen brush past the both of them in the forceful winds. Being tossed and turned by the turbulent air and heavy rain. Was it a sign or a warning.

He watched it drift down to the ground where wilting flowers were laughing up through the earth before turning back to Mathias.

"You've given it up haven't you?" Lars said quietly, his eyes burning through the indifference that was layered on with a trademark smile stamped over top. Mathias blew smoke in his face before looking away towards the campus and he wrapped an arm around himself.

"How long until you have to go back inside?"

"That's not answering my fucking question Mathias." Exasperation riddled his Dane held up a hand and shook his head.

"I asked what time?"

"In about twenty odd minutes why?"

He grinned.

"Sutte mig."

"I don't uh."

Mathias took a firm hold of his shoulder and forced the Dutchman to his knees with a strength Lars had forgotten he possessed. His lanky frame deceiving to the eye. Water seeped through the knees of his trousers and for the time being he just couldn't give a fuck when those eyes were burning just right. So bright. Intense and authority steamed off the rigid hold to his shoulders.

"Sutte. Mig." The murmur sounded like nothing more than a seductive purr and intention, or rather the request was clearer than day.

The Dutchman fumbled with getting the other's zipper down, surprised to find the other already half mast and it didn't take him long to fix that with a few jerks of his wrist. He heard the other sigh when he swirled his tongue around the tip of his cock and took him barely in. The hitch in Mathias' breathing kept him going further, his own forehead wrinkled in confusion before he let it slide and took the other down his throat completely ignorant of his own gag reflex. Rain water soaked the edge of his scarf and trickled down his neck which for one would have been irritating if it weren't for his focus being entirely put on the length between his lips. He could feel the other about to say something he didn't care for and he let his eyes fall closed as he kissed up the shaft and licked a strip back down to the base, nibbling just the slightest before taking him back into his mouth and used his tongue to try and coax something more than just a few breathy exhales out of the Dane. He tongued at the slit and hollowed his cheeks hard in between bobbing his head, twisting a fraction each time to increase the friction and oh the hand that clenched his hair hard made him moan around the other.

Just when he thought he had him in the right spot did he realise the other was still puffing at his cigarette like he was bored. Growling he pushed himself further, almost gagging from how deep he took him, his hands coming up to roll Mathias' balls in time with his bobbing and when he heard the tube drop and the sizzle of it going out in the water did he feel just a little more content in himself and picked up the pace. Mathias' back arched off the wall each time his nose ended up buried in the coarse hair at his crotch and by the time the Dane forcefully pulled him off did he feel how raw his throat was, how swollen his lips were. Mathias' fingers slid from his hair to his mouth and with one of his hands did he finish himself off, pumping himself right into the Dutchman's mouth that he kept open with a few bony fingers.

Lars tongue curled to catch what it could and what he couldn't ended up dripping off his chin and the rest smeared against his cheek. Mathias collapsed back against the wall, dragging Lars back to his feet so he could thread his fingers through his hair and lick off the semen that had barely dried on his face.

"That wasn't too hard now was it?" He chuckled, pressing his lips against the Dutchman's before pulling himself away to tuck his flaccid dick back into his jeans. "I'm sure you can fix yourself yeah? I'll repay you later."

He caught Mathias by the back of the neck and crushed their mouths together to the point their teeth clicked and he swore one of the Dane's broke the skin on his lip. How long he ground his mouth against Mathias' after those words had left his mouth he would never know. A mesmerising sense of anger and frustration lurched in the Dutchman's throat that had his tongue roughly tasting the smoke flavoured saliva that overpowered everything else on Mathias' tongue and the groan he pulled out of him only agitated him further. How dare he think he could just leave, how dare he think it would be enough to 'fix himself'. His exasperation was enough to keep up the brutality of his teeth and tongue against the other's passive response, and he kept it going until he felt the energy in his abused mouth drain and he broke contact only just. Just enough time to watch the trail of blood and saliva that connected to their lips before it split when he was far away enough.

"You are fucking infuriating, idiotically stubborn...don't you dare leave me right now."

"The answer to your question by the way is yes. It feels like hell." He stole himself a short moment of peace with the knowledge he'd abandoned the drugged up dream world he'd created for himself out of chemicals used on bathroom floors or to reduce the pain of one suffering psychical trauma. But before he could so much as say what was caught in his throat the Dane skipped off and left him standing there aching and needy and a little bit more than pissed off.

He relieved himself in the men's room, his teeth locked around the edge of his hand to muffle his moan as he jerked off to the thought of the earlier events. The way his own dull sense of possessiveness had been turned on him and he was brought to his knees by a single hand and a single thirsty stare had him staying there. Cleaning up had been mindless as was reciting signs of mental illness he'd memorised since he'd been able to get his hands on a book about the subject, the semi interested stares of his students made it harder to stay focused but he managed, keeping his eyes down as he flicked through slide after slide and transformed the information into his own words.

"-A looming sensation of an unidentifiable threat is what is constantly humming in the background of a Anxiety sufferer's mind. It strips away their ability in most cases to function in situations where a larger population of people without the illness would be comfortable. It may be social, educational or even an activity they once enjoyed..."

And life went on.

xxx

Lars curled his toes against clean sheets, his arms under his pillow head resting on the down feathers and he was just about to go to sleep when he felt something come up from the opposite end of the sheets and he nearly shrieked when he felt it touch his toes. Muffled laughter brought his panic down to mild irritation and Mathias slid from the bottom up to where he was. His hair a complete wild mess and his grin not too much better but for once Lars was happy to say the Dane's face was bare of coverage and every single little freckle on his face was visible. A pile of papers and magazines ended up at his elbow not a second later.

"Lars we have to chose what we want in the new studio. Okay so I've got a sketch up of what it looks like..."A piece of rolled up paper was dumped in front of the bewildered brunette. "And then I've got all of this for us to go through before I start ordering things sound good?"

"Mathias...I'm trying to sleep."

"Do I look like I give a fuck this place is going to as much yours as it is mine. Anyway the kitchen and the living room is one space though the bathroom and two bedrooms are their own rooms but then there's a kinda half sectioned off area that can be used as a third room and I thought maybe we could...use that one to sleep in and the other two could be if we need space?" Mathias babbled on and on, ideas being birthed off the backs of others until he was literally spouting nonsense. "BOOKS. I can fill the places with so. many. books."

"Indeed you can look can we do this tomorrow after work? Please? I'm like...dead?"

"You're a kill joy ugh fiiiiiine." Mathias began to get off the bed the same way he came and before he could get much further Lars curled his legs around the other's waist and dragged him back up to where he was previously.

"And where do you think you're going?"

"To my bedroom look not all of us have the ability to actually sleep."

"Yeah yeah I get it insomniacs live the life now would you quit being rude and just stay here until I...do...fall asleep." He held one of the Dane's bare arms once he'd shuffled back up to where the Dutchman was on the bed. He stared across into those light eyes that contained emotion that didn't fit his barely visible smile and traced the patterns on his arms that covered the rain drops of a scattered galaxy in the form of battle scars and freckles. The earlier warmth poured out once Mathias realised it wasn't his tattoo's that he was tracing and Lars could hear him hold his breath nervously. The jagged angry skin adorned his bones and muscles in a hidden horror and when the other's mind seemed to catch up with his body did he feel him pull away and Lars held fast, repeating what had happened months ago he feathered light kisses up his forearm and fell ignorant to the violent trembling that came from his Dane. Or the way his breath came quickly once he'd remembered how to breathe again, almost as if he were on the verge of hyperventilation each time Lars' lips came down on the twisted evidence of a once rancid plague.

The rare and precious tower of bones rattled in thinly stretched skin when his kisses came to a stop, the last one an attempt to convey a kind of tenderness his tongue could not create with syllables. They weren't alone, not like this, they weren't empty, not with each other putting so much into each other to keep them going. Once where Lars had made peace with his own emptiness, with the constant hum of a menacing unidentifiable threat that remained without an object was replaced with somebody to get coffee with, to take walks, to love and hold hands with as he watched his own half empty thoughts dissipate into the night sky as he abolished demon by demon contained within the other.

He didn't realise his every thought had been said in a language they both understood and the quivering intensified as Mathias struggled with his own words they ended up being translated into 'I love you.'

"Can we talk for a bit?" Mathias said after a few brief seconds of silence, perhaps even minutes of hours. Time stretched out comfortably in their own little world of secrets and affections.

"You can talk at me if you'd like." Truthfully he was in love with the deep tones that resonated sweetly in the other's voice at night, the lazy drawl of thickly accented words came like the most intricate poetry to his ears and were accompanied by the back track of his even breathing. Mathias nodded and for a second Lars couldn't believe the carefully spun tale that left the Dane. The deeper he went, dropping his walls and creating them as he went into deeper details Lars could almost fool himself that perhaps for a moment he began to understand what exactly lurked behind the sweet smiles of the Dane. Perhaps he had found a way to climb above those cement solid walls, perhaps he had found the courage within himself to leap over and take in what he could. He was open to talk about what it was like outside of the boarding school. He spoke of twisted palaces reeking of booze and cigarettes and that overall sweaty and downright dirty smell that came with whore houses. The way he spoke about how it felt to be high at such a young age made the Dutchman want to go back in time and save him from the places he stayed in. Needles were always around, used condoms hidden in the corners beside them. The way his eyes glazed over when he tried to talk about exactly he had to do to stay at some of those places was worrying to say the least but his usage of words made it sound all like some fucked up kind of fairy tale. Yellow light bulbs and broken down houses in the middle of god knows where had become his home until he'd come across Elizaveta. Before her just when he'd been 15 was he prostituting himself for a high price and even for drugs just to shut the demons up that whispered to him. As much as he said he didn't mind what he was doing it would have been easier if he had his meds with him to silence the voices and noises that kept him up. He was known for walking away from fights with barely a scratch, he was known for being a lanky kid with a caving stomach and a million boulders balanced on his shoulders.

Before he could go any further the story broke off into ragged breaths and his tongue curled around paragraphs that went right over the Dutchman's head. When Mathias had realised his fault did he stop all together and clasp his hands over his mouth, the violent trembles coming back as his earlier comfort came to a hault and crippled him from the ability to say much else. Eventually Lars ended up pulling Mathias in to his chest once he was done, cradling his shaking form as tightly as he could until he himself drifted off to sleep and still even in his dreams he could feel the other shaking and he could swear the choked sounds of restrained sobs.

His vision faded from the screen shot of the Dane's distress to black and eventually to the soft tones of early morning light.

He woke up alone with the smell of the Dane still clinging to the sheets, vanilla scented cologne faintly flavouring his pillow cases to which he rolled over to smother his face against and inhale deeply. From the dim light and the barely audible song of birds coming from the world outside of his bedroom he was able to deduce the time to be early morning. With his head propped up on the down feathered pillow he decided that if he were to chose between the appropriate time for somebody to be dragged from dreams and the moments just before the tendrils of night time were being chases away by the rebirth of another day he would have easily chosen the latter. The time just where he could imagine just himself awake, save for his Dane who he could barely make out loitering around in the living room, and the rest of the world was still sleeping. He felt barely there, everything an idea or simply non-existent and unreal in general. His problems were the last thing on his mind and any menacing threat of anxiety was only a thing of chance because for a few short moments it was just him, the blossom of sunrise and the dozing world.

Or so it would have been if Mathias didn't creep into his bedroom, to which Lars had already chosen to feign sleep again by the time the blonde had slipped under the sheets beside him with coffee heavy on his breath. Mathias murmured to him curiously, testing to see if he would hear and the Dutchman was proud of himself for having pressed his face against the bedding or else the other would have seen the slow grin that spread across his face. Mathias sighed and with a gentle elegance ran his fingers up the bumps of his spine.

The murmuring started back up again, sounding something akin to a sad background hum. Light and dark mixed together in an inseparable concoction under the Dane's fingertips that continued to trace the line of Lars' back. A storm of faded grey and invisible lightening strikes that could only be heard in the echoes of the other's voice. In a perfect setting he would have been lulled back to rest, only if the crack and roll of the ever changing weather inside the Dane's head didn't take on an audible form. If the ghost of his incomprehensible words weren't keeping him awake. When Lars had completely forgotten to control his breathing and unconsciously held his breath did Mathias stop his humming and his delicate touching.

"I know you're awake." He chuckled thickly.

"I know you know."

"Good are you going to drop the charade now or...?"

"Not until I feel content enough, you have nice voice keep going."

It was happier when he started up again, visions of euphoric colours bleeding behind Lars' eyelids when the Dane rolled the balls of his palms directly into the dip between his shoulders. The warmth trickled from his head down his throat and filled his chest as Mathias' lips soon followed after the tender massage of his hands. It was overwhelming the way it felt as if his chest expanded as the cavity beneath his sternum was filled to the brim with the other's state of felicity. The moment of peace stretched out with velvet tips and weaved between the ticking seconds of time like the space between stars.

"What do you want to do today?" Mathias said eventually, both hands working at drawing invisible masterpieces on the lengths of Lars' arms.

"There's...a poetry slam downtown I heard some of the students...talk about it." Drowsily Lars sat up, regretting the movement as soon as the Dane's hands lost contact and rested in Mathias' lap.

"A poetry slam?"

"Mhhmmm maybe they'll let me do something who knows." He smiled through a yawn, arms stretching above his head until his joints popped and cracked before he sagged forward to rest his head on the blonde's shoulder. "It's not until a bit later but if you don't want to..."

"No, no I definitely want to I just didn't think you'd be into that kind of thing."

Lars smiled fondly and pulled the Dane's head down to level with his own mouth to press a kiss to his forehead.

xxx

He could feel the eyes of many ripping him apart from the inside out and slowly a panic attack threatened to dawn on him. Swallowing it down he looked up past the lights and just took the time to appreciate the fact he was able to take a free slot. The opportunity a rare thing and it would have been a slimmer chance he would have gotten the time if it weren't for Mathias slipping several Euro across to the owner of the small and surprisingly packed joint. Setting his shoulders straight and his back straighter he held the microphone to his mouth and envisioned it as just another class where he'd be talking about something he'd memorised like the back of his hand. Lars hadn't had anything planned, not something written down anywhere but rather he came up with something that he'd had feathering the backs of his thoughts since months ago.

"Hallo uh, I haven't really done this before so if I fuck up don't kill me or whatever." His tongue felt swollen against the backs of his teeth, gritting them and trying to forget his absolutely perfect introduction he continued on. "I uh, I never wrote this one. It's just one I've had for a while you know on the tip of my tongue and I don't really have a name for it for now, it's still...in progress I guess."

He coughed, trying not to take in the mildly irritated stares that came from the crowd. Another second came and went and in that time he managed to think to himself 'fuck it'. Scrapping up a shred of self confidence he let his mind run his mouth.

"I've grown accustomed to the stale taste of liquor after our mouths have met, grown to love the pin pricks and bruises of past addictions that occupy the pale sheen of skin between the universe of freckles. I've grown to find pleasure in the music of your thoughts, the touch of your breathe and the taste of your voice. The scenery of your irises haunt my dreams and the military cemetery of your teeth will forever resonate in my dreams when your name is uttered by a single soul. Your every word is a mixed tape I want on repeat if it weren't for the new material that gets added when you find the perfect melody to create perfectly strung sentences." Lars kept his eyes on the back of the room, trying not to break a sweat or the beat to his tuneless rap at all of the eyes that were glued to him. "You have a way of turning every twisted and frightened thought I've ever had into something that cracks through my bones and tears through my skin until it seems well...almost grotesquely beautiful. I guess I'm terrible at this kind of thing but this is my confession to you. You made indescribable emotions and undesirable thoughts explode through the wall I'd had up to keep words the force of tsunami at bay and for now all I can hope is that my thoughts will ripple in yours and give you the strength to keep the evidence of a too long war from scarring your knuckles."

Lars held his breath as the flow came to a stop and the poetry along with it. At the eruption of applause he mumbled a short word of gratitude before taking his leave from the prying eyes of strangers and sagged in relief when he saw Mathias running towards him, his arms crushing the Dutchman in a hug that stole the breath from him and had him struggling to put as much into it as Mathias was. Lips came down numerous times on his own in between praises in that damn language he didn't understand, whatever effect he'd had on Mathias he'd effectively broken his brain and reduced him to a state where even his tongue couldn't catch up with him.

"Can...can we go home?" He looked over the freckled face that was dusted with a faint flush and the gorgeously leaking irises that smiled up at him. For once he was happy to see the splash of salt water that was drying on the angel kisses adorning the other's cheeks and he worked to rub his thumbs against the warm tears. "

Mathias nodded and he held on tight to the Dutchman's hand while they took their leave. He had to rub at his face to stay awake on the drive home, it hadn't even sunken in that he was back in sweet solidarity with Mathias until the Dane was slipping off Lars' coat and hanging it up. Even then hazily he looked around and let the apartment become more familiar to his heavy eyes. The couch almost looked like something sacred and he let his feet carry him to the cushioning before falling face first into the pillows. Exhausted from the mental strain of ridiculous discomfort from being around so many people. Mathias straddled his lap which if he were in another state of mind he would have found hot, his hands splayed across the Dutchman's chest and the slow burn of mouth on mouth was far from anything sexual. A silenced thank you portrayed through the melding of lips and Mathias sure as hell didn't waste any time capturing the other's bottom lip between his teeth and sucking lightly.

As he'd pulled away to continue on to the very edge of his neck the Dane nuzzled his face against his chest, ear pressed over his heart and the fingers still on his torso tapped out the beat of his racing pulse until it grew slower and slower as he found comfort in both himself and the environment. He was going to let the other have anything and everything he wanted, his mind was not hesitant to accept that as he was enveloped in the state of peace he'd been sinking into at the start of the day.


	15. An inner indecisiveness

Okay frick this took ages to write up because of con weekend which was amazing and oh lord I met some amazing people  
anyway thank you so much for all of the lovely reviews and such ooo I promise there will be a pattern setting up again some time after exams to when I post chapters and also perhaps maybe definitely I'll post a baby chapter soon  
Love you guys lots hope you've had an amazing week

**Left Alone - Flume ft. Chet Faker**

* * *

Time went by unbelievably fast to the days leading up to their move or rather, the light packing on both their behalves due to Mathias' constant reassurance that he'd buy them both new clothes if it came to it, and perhaps even try and order some things online if Lars was too picky or they couldn't find anything suitable. The only thing he'd insisted on was dragging Lars to the tailors to get him a decent suit for his new job. It wasn't too bad, simple black and a perfect fit, but the suit collars in a variety of colours and cuts felt too stiff and restricting around the Dutchman's neck for him to feel at ease in the get up. However Mathias showed his appreciation in several different ways once they were behind closed doors. Afterwards he'd claimed it was their way or saying goodbye to the apartment for the time being and not because he was simply sporting a specific kind of fetish.

Hours before their flight whatever they needed or in Mathias' case wanted was packed away and their cases sat beside the door. Their new home had already been furnished thanks to Lars eventually pulling himself together and choosing not to procrastinate what he wanted any further and Mathias had been quick to get it all sorted out, flying between cities when necessary but it was never for too long. Long enough for Lars to miss him but he always woke the next day to fresh coffee and something for breakfast while Mathias claimed the balcony. And even some of the few times Mathias had flown away Lars had come with him to be filled in on his new position, the sentences explaining how his potential could be used for so much more than teaching being drilled into his head each and every time one of his new employers had sat him down. By that point he was sure his ego wouldn't be able to take much more and he felt like he'd already been in the field of work for years. Surprisingly enough, well it appeared to come as a surprise to Mathias, Lars hadn't ever done the whole psychologist one on one thing that he'd originally gained his degree for.

It may have been for a day or two when Mathias would slip away by himself for preparations yet still Lars felt the absence of warmth and his careless laughter. The only days Mathias had refused to do anything but stay in Frankfurt were Saturday mornings where the Dutchman had no work and plenty of time to sleep in so the blonde would always take it upon himself to be their to hold his hand during the night until he woke up. For that, Lars was grateful, nothing sat with him better than falling asleep to the steady sound of his heart pulsating under the tantalizing texture of his skin. Waking up was always so much better, despite his morning breath Mathias didn't complain he would scrunch his nose and laugh but happily indulge him in a slow burn of a good morning kiss.

As for the moment of time where they were so close to taking off into the sky the spent their last few minutes in the apartment on the balcony where Mathias had perched himself on the rails and was looking down on the tourists floors upon floors under the pair. It lacked all reason for why the Dane was laughing excitedly but for safe measure Lars had taken upon himself to hold on tight to the blonde who he so desperately never wanted to let go. He stood behind him with his hands on his hips and his nose buried in his hair, subtly inhaling to capture the smell of the Dane on the back of his tongue. Mathias held out his arms, leaning over the railing as far as he could possibly go as the wind and unmerciful force of gravity threatened to send him over the edge.

"Do you trust me Lars." He said, voice high and girly in a poor imitation of that god awful movie which Lars still had yet to understand why everybody liked so much.

Smirking into the the other's neck he hummed. "Strangely enough."

"Titanic isn't scripted like that."

"Should have been."

Mathias leant over further until he was practically hanging off the edge, the risk of plummeting into the world below them only reduced by the fact Lars was clinging onto him for dear life. The Dane laughed, his fingers outstretched to the city. "A twist of fate could have me soaring."

"-To the ground where you'd unfortunately meet your untimely death."

He chuckled and slipped back down to stable ground, turning around he ran his fingers through the other's hair and pulled him in till their noses were brushing. "Untimely? Nej. It's inevitable."

Lars watched him out of worry as he continued to laugh to himself, the chuckles dying down to hum and eventually he switched to talking about god knows what. The longer Lars looked he watched in a doze as blood dripped from the edge of the Dane's nose, something he appeared to be entirely oblivious too as he babbled on about literally nothing, something about the depth within things that are said to be literally nothing and if Lars wasn't busy being so fucking worried about why his nose was bleeding he would have spontaneously combusted from the head fuck of the other's words. Only when Mathias' tongue flicked against the edge of his lip where some of the slow flow dribbled down the the edge of is mouth did he pause and touch his fingers above his lip, once he had examined his fingers he sighed heavily, a cursing in irritation as he patted around undoubtedly for a tissue.

He mopped himself up and continued to talk words that didn't reach Lars' ears, the flow of his words a little slower before he went inside still talking to himself.

Huh.

"Lars do you know...what my philosophy is?" Lars blinked and realised the other was done cleaning up the mess on his face.

"No idea. Something to do with being a fucking idiot?"

Mathias laughed and shook his head, the bloody piece of cotton being slipped away into his pocket. "I read it somewhere but it always sort of stuck hold on...Get scared. It will do you good. Smoke a bit, stare blankly at some ceilings, beat your head against some walls, refuse to see some people, paint and write. Get scared some more. Allow your little mind to do nothing but function. Stay inside, go out - I don't care what you'll do; but stay scared as hell. You will never be able to experience everything. So, please, do poetical justice to your soul and simply experience yourself."

"Very poetic." The Dutchman rose an eyebrow, eyes practically glued to where the tissue was hidden. Perhaps he had a point.

"Lars what I'm trying to say is. You need to let yourself be scared once in a while to be able to get over a few things, it's the only way you're going to live and probably the only way you're going to die. Try and be a bit less I don't know..." Mathias sighed, eyes moving as if he were flipping through a book, or a dictionary for the right word. "Neurotic. Go with the flow, live like the sea be wild and reckless listen to the introduction and epilogue to 'Ride' and pretend what Lana Del Rey is saying is actually the law for living."

"And what did she say?"

Another heavy sigh. "Live fast. Die young. Be wild. And have fun."

"You sound like a typical teenaged girl."

"And you sound like a middle-aged man while you're only in your twenties." Mathias grinned, his hands forcing Lars' head up to look at his face rather than trying to burn a hole through his jacket to see the contents. "Being fucked in the head either sets you free or drives you into a corner and never lets you loose. I know you're worried about me but I don't want you to be. Just live, accept things the way they are and keep going on like nothing is wrong in this disgusting, loathing world."

Lars continued to gnaw on the inside of his cheek nervously, a habit, just like the Dane's smoking, just like their combined drinking and just like the habit of biting nails that they also both shared. When he didn't respond Mathias kissed his cheeks, his nose, his eyelids and his forehead.

"Let your thoughts be unfinished, let those bitter sweet memories be birthed into to be continues. Live Lars, live and keep being beautiful and keep seeking out tomorrow and stop thinking about what made things into whatever they are now or what they'll be tomorrow." Another kiss to the edge of his jaw. "We're vile humans, we have shitty life expectancies and that's why you need to let it all go for a while, it'll all be there to piece back together later."

"Have I told you I love you enough?" He muttered. "Have I loved you enough."

"Enough and a lot more than I deserve my darling Lars, so much more."

xxx

Lars hadn't had time after the flight to Brussels to break in the house, nor did he have time to try and memorise the map of the rooms either apart from the fact the living room was broken by a half wall that lead into their shared room. Two spare rooms were somewhere on the other side of the apartment if they needed space but in the short time he had between dumping his case and changing into work appropriate clothes did he appreciate the bare brick walls and the black ceiling that Mathias had immediately taken to covering in glow in the dark stickers and fairy lights. 'For a fake night sky' he'd said and in between his exhausted state of mind did he laugh fondly at the childlike way the Dane had taken to decorating the roof. The walls however were quickly being covered in photographs and notes and books and CD's Mathias had claimed he couldn't stand the thought of parting with.

Though despite him feeling as if he didn't have time in between Mathias unpacking a few extra things around him and he himself trying to get changed into the monkey suit, they managed to slip in the briefest of pillow fights with a silent promise for it to be continued later. Ripped up Egyptian cotton pillow covers and down feathers coated nearly everything in one of the two barely empty spare rooms. Mathias had spent nearly an hour and a half picking the feathers from the confines of Lars' hair while the Dutchman complained about how much of a stupid fucking idea it was to have a pillow fight right before he was due for work.

His first day had started with him looking nervously over the new, but not quite, city. The layout familiar, the streets almost as memorised as the lines and tracks of veins on his wrists but still an irrational bubbling of fear continued to buzz in his head whenever he thought about actually leaving their new home. A kiss on the cheek and a ready packed lunch on the way and before he even had the time to find himself in a state of mirth at the domesticity to it he was pulling his nervous carcass into the back seat of a taxi.

xxx

He slid a finger down the pristine, polished wood of his desk top. Immaculate and clean for the first ever job outside of teaching and running around with part time jobs when he was a student. His suit felt too stiff, too uncomfortable and the shoes still requiring to be broken in but Mathias had insisted he got him a tailored suit and despite the fact he was unbelievably against wearing them half the time he could see why it was important for his job to look professional. Especially with this pay and the people he would have to deal with. Sitting down in one of the few scattered chairs he sunk into the soft cushioning with his head tipped back while he waited for his first appointment.

A knock at the door sprung him out of his half doze and quickly grabbing his notebook and a pen he opened the door with as warm a smile as he could muster without the presence of his Dane.

The small but undeniably curvy brunette looked up at him over the edge of her dark glasses, carefully lined lips smiled up at him just as welcoming as he was hoping he came off as and without his invitation she walked in and took a seat in the chair he was just previously in. Swallowing thickly he took the seat across from her and crossed one leg over the other simultaneously with her.

"So what's been happening for you Miss...?"

"Héderváry. And it's Mrs. I can't sleep."

Lars rubbed in between his eyes and opened up his notebook, sinking back he sized up the woman across from him, who without her glasses perched on the edge of her nose looked strikingly familiar before nodding and starting to doodle a little in the margin. "How long has this been going on for?"

"A month maybe two, I can get an hour or something but it doesn't...last."

"Do you have any idea why that might be?"

"...I feel scared. To sleep that is. Nightmares were too frequent beforehand and now I just can't stop thinking about everything."

"Everything?"

"Everything."

Hungarian. Early twenties probably got a decent paying job from the style of her shoe. Left hand bore a band but from the fact she wasn't referring to herself as Mrs he figured engagement. Tapping the edge of his pen against his teeth he smiled carefully. "Why don't you tell me what 'everything' is Mrs Héderváry and maybe we can try and find what's keeping you up. If I think it's bad enough I will see to prescribing you to medication so... How about we go back a month or two, just as you got nightmares."

She shook her head and chuckled. "I think I'd rather talk about something else it's a bit gruesome and I shouldn't spoil anything for you."

"Excuse me?"

"You know Mathias Kohler right? You're all over the papers with him." The pretty brunette tossed her hair over her shoulder before leaning in. "I know him too. You see he's kinda like my little brother or something. We're not related that'd just be weird aaaanyway... Where was I, where was I...When he found me again he wouldn't stop talking about the kid he saw the one day I made him go to a school, or when he saw the same kid, a little older, at a business meeting acting like a water boy or when he saw him in a club and they had a one night stand. You have no idea how happy he was when he found the same person so many years later after unintentionally, or so he says, sleeping with their sister so. What is it about you that made him fall for you so quickly."

"I'm just a psychologist and an poet when I see fit." He swallowed down the lump manifesting in his throat. "I believe this is meant to be a session about you Miss Héderváry not me."

"Technically it's about both of us. You were still able to fall in love with a boy you met for five minutes and who's virginity I've seen taken in numerous ways by people too high to even realise they were being robbed by a fifteen year old. So good doctor tell me, what did you see in a fifteen year old boy who was still trying to hide himself away from the world?"

"Miss I-"

"Elizaveta please and appease me. These are confidential sessions I just want to know. I was drawn to him because he was able to fight like no other. You on the other hand from what I've heard took one look at him and joined him at the back of the room."

"I was interested and still am but people who seem a little different. And at the time I was the only one who appeared to notice him in the room." He put his notebook down and leaned in to, his curiosity in the strange woman spiking. "Why do you want to know?"

"I just want more of a picture who my dear Mathias is getting involved with. In the past and still in the present he is wrapped up in some very messy things and I just wanted to make sure he had at least somebody to give him some normalcy." She smiled sweetly and tipped her head to the side, the mane of brown flowing smoothly down her arm. "What made you stay with him even now?"

"He still interests me. And it'd be unfair of me to just up and leave him when he means so much to me."

"So you know what he does for a living aside from the material stuff?"

"I know he deals. I know he models and I know he's picked up his parent's business, whatever that was from where they left off."

She frowned slightly but eventually nodded and her fingers began to drum against her thigh. Impatient, no irritation her eyes were too tight her lips tighter. "Impressive. I guess that's all that's important to really know."

"And why are you so intent on knowing what I know? That's not what you're paying for."

"Because you interest me."

For a long while they stared each other down, amusement written clearly on her carefully painted face as soon as the mild irritation was scrubbed away and after a moment of her looking over his face she smiled just a little wider and nodded. "I think our session is up. Thank you Doctor, I think you helped me a lot."

"Do you want to book another appointment?" He said sardonically. Her shrill laughter rung in his ears.

"Oh don't be ridiculous I'll call if I want another. Have a nice week. Oh and one more thing..." She straightened her skirt and just before she left the room entirely she spun back on heel, lips pursed into a scowl and the click of her stilettos against the floorboards imitated nails being dragged down a chalk board. Sharply filed nails were at his neck and the glare she sent in his direction made him stiller than stone. "If you so much as hurt him do not think I won't castrate you and shove your dick so far up your ass your children will end up being born covered in your ancient shit you hear?"

"Yes ma'am."

The twist in her expression almost gave him whiplash as she smiled and clapped her ridiculously manicured hands together. "Great! That will be all. Goodbye Dr Peeters!"

Using a psychologist's voice felt weird in his mouth, the proper sentences even weirder and the lack of sarcasm just put chills in his spine. However by the time he'd recomposed himself and reminded himself that yes he was at work this is a proper place to talk proper act proper, another patient was on their way to knocking the door and seconds before their knuckles could beat down on the wood he'd pulled the door open and given the same warm welcoming to the next person.

xxx

He could barely remember any of the one night stands he'd had before his last few years of getting his bachelors and even then he wasn't too active. However a few distinctive ones were where he saw all of their faces and one where he didn't. Lars was gradually beginning to believe in that whole red string of fate thing, it was strange how many times they were said to have met before the last year and a half. Though with his head against the glass of the taxi window he loosened his tie and tried to think back as far as he could, to sift through all of the past experiences.

It must have been the night he'd stupidly gotten drunk and high at the same time, he'd been too fucked to know what was going on apart from the fact he was grinding against somebody who had been entirely comfortable with it and at some point of the night they'd gone to his dorm room. Maybe. Perhaps. The one where he couldn't see the person's face the entire time, either cast over by a veil of shadow or his face was tucked away against either skin or his hood and a screen of smoke. The most he could remember was waking up with a hangover that made him near homicidal until he'd rolled over and watched the person he'd shared his bed with the night before getting changed and mumbling something about buying him lunch before he fell back into unconsciousness. The thing that made the whole experience different to the other few was the fact that when he woke up the second time he found a wrap and bottle of orange juice on the edge of his table with a small note pinned down with a few aspirin.

Stifling a groan he tried to think back further, replacing the blurred words with the messy scribble of Mathias until he could almost recreate a manifestation from scraps of his memory of what was on the note. No game. He used to use it for a bookmark in his university textbooks which were definitely somewhere in his suitcase still. All it would be would be a matter of hunting.

He brushed past Mathias on his way in, his task set ahead of him and he mumbled a greeting and a quick reply to the question about how his first day was before he went to completely ruining the neat stack of thickly bound books sitting underneath the clothes he still hadn't been screwed to unpack. After hours of turning through page after god forsaken page he finally found the scrap of notepaper and smoothed it out across the hard cover, trying to revive the crumpled piece he hadn't even thought about for a few years. His fingers felt over the lines of faded black ink on the abused and poorly looked after note. Still legible but only just.

_You're cute, hope that headache clears up soon headaches are a bitch_  
_Anyway see you around._  
_Maybe._  
_P.S I'm still not giving you my number despite that adorable little request._ _Let's just hope we meet again someday.  
Which I'm sure we will  
There seems to be a habit with that.  
_

The truth in that note was almost terrifyingly accurate. Indeed if what the queerwoman from earlier had said was truth then Mathias had found him many, many times. When he lifted his head Mathias was standing in the doorway of the spare room, his expression heavy with confusion and his arms crossed as if to protect himself. Lars ran a tongue over his lip before looking back to the messy scripture and again he pressed his fingers against the indentations in the paper as if it had the power to tell him what exactly he was forgetting about the minutes or perhaps even hours they'd spent together that night. And just when he thought foolishly for the third time he understood everything about the Dane he was tossed right back to square one and felt as if he were looking at a mere acquaintance.

"How many times have we met Mathias?" Lars said eventually, his teeth grinding into the flesh of his cheek. "Or rather how many times have we met intentionally?"

"A few, none have been intentional apart from back in Frankfurt." His posture remained tensed as he spoke through his teeth, seemingly as if he were regretting the honesty. "I'm just as surprised as you are, well I was when I came across you. You never recognised me though so I didn't think I should have said anything."

"Europe is a big place how could we..."

"I don't know, the world is a strange and fucked up place but sometimes it wants things to work out."

Fog infected those blue, blue eyes that bore down and ripped through to the Dutchman's soul with a sort of stare that contained a hint of suffering and a hurricane of mild fear. It was those mixed emotions that made Lars consider that perhaps indeed Mathias was just as confused about everything as he was and rather than pry further the brunette smiled up at him to at least bring the sun back through to melt away the grey. No go. The sky in his eyes was not the soft spring it usually was and rather a chilling, bitter sky of the coldest of winters. His hopes of bringing back warmth fell away like autumn leaves in the wind and when he rose to approach the other he was shocked to see him flinch back.

"What's wrong?"

"I don't know. I don't want to know, ever." He smiled back tightly and regained the slightest slither of light back to his hazy eyes. "But I'm okay for now, the question is. Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, why wouldn't I be?"

"Well with all of thi.."Lars pressed his hand over the Dane's mouth, mild pleasure infiltrating his being as the other went as still as a statue. When he felt teeth scrapping against the skin of his palm he almost pulled away until what was caught in the other's mouth was sucked at by his lips. The entirety of that moment he could feel the other's curious stare, could see his fidgeting hands but couldn't find it in himself to let his arm drop. It was ironic, it was cliché, and unfortunately for him it was his life.

The Dutchman opened and closed his mouth, willing words to take the place of the silent gasps that created nothing by gusts of breath on the other's face. He didn't need to hear the rest of his sentence and by this point he was certain the other didn't need to hear whatever he wanted to say. The intensity of the other's stare became shielded by his eyes falling closed. His cheeks softened and the firmness of his jaw dissipated with relaxation, it was an act of passivity for Mathias to entirely fall limp in the other's hold, though there was still something he was anticipating that buzzed under the Dane's skin and sent a current through Lars' nerves. He didn't know what to do with this control he'd just been given and rather than take advantage he pressed his lips to the seams of his own fingers, kissing the other through his hand before moving away and leaving him standing there, tense and buzzing on the spot.

He'd make a quick escape out the front door, suddenly overcome with feeling as if the air was too suffocating in the house and finding himself hungry with the urge for fresh air. Idiotic for him to forget his coat and the bitter autumn wind reminded him of his mistake as well as the touched him with the after taste of the oncoming winter. The air was cool and fresh-smelling, just what he'd felt he'd needed it it weren't from the sky looking so vast and deep. Again for the millionth time he self like he was so very small and insignificant however the feeling came almost familiar. How many times had he felt insignificant to people better than him was several times too many. The light sound of footfall came from behind him and he had just enough time to brace himself before Mathias had his arm slipped around his.

The usually long melody of conversation was nothing but an idea to Lars, he didn't feel the urge to say much more, to ask much more or to know much more. The revived memory of what had once happened lingered like molasses on the ends of Lars' every thought and he was sure any spoken word would be another question just to know as to what else has happened. However looking up at the clear sheet of black splattered with dazzling stars his tongue refused to let him say anything and his lips only parted to suck in cool air, and the endless void smirked down at him with it's dead freckles. If he were a better man he would have prayed to a deity to remove the strange sense of foreboding that filled him but  
he wasn't.

Still in absolute silence he watched as Mathias tore off his arm and sprinted ahead, the park not too far in front and he tucked his hands into his coat pockets eyes adjusting to the scenery of nearly dead trees and leaf covered grass before the blonde had dived into a pile of what used to be nature's shelter. A faint smile came to his lips and he stalked forward, standing above the breathless Dane who's arms were moving at his sides to push away the dulled colours of red and orange and yellow.

Mathias smiled up at him from his bed of leaves and a hand shot up to drag him down to earth and have him face first in a pile of nature that sent his anxieties on fire for a few brief moments until the Dane's fingers stroked down the length of his face and caught his chin with his index and pulled him in close. Their noses brushed together and Mathias' fingers soothed through his hair until the slight hitch in Lars' breathing calmed down to normal. Again he felt as if something should be said and again nothing was, he felt a little lost in his own thoughts, confused and irritated with his lack of speaking but just like earlier he could not give into his own desires and internally shook his head in disappointment at himself before resting his head on the other's shoulder.

He let himself be held tight, and he at some point fell into a daydream of nothing in particular with nothing but the cold and dead looking park as the backdrop and eventually a quiet murmur of words the soundtrack to his own fantasy.

_I've fallen in love with the ocean Lars, I'm so in love with it and with you that I want to be the salt water on your cheeks so I can be born in the wild forest and die on your lips. Lars I love you don't cry. Lars hold me, no don't hold me. Don't hate me. Don't love me. Lars it's so cold lets go back._

Maybe silence wasn't as good as what would pour out of the other's mouth in moments of weakness whatever concerns he had earlier had spilled in the present and was still riddling him to the point it sounded like Mathias was talking more to himself than to Lars. Lars who hugged the blonde closer and let his nose be dipped in the other's hair and that at least stopped him from complaining about the cold. He didn't remember crying or perhaps it was Mathias who was crying, his shoulders were shaking and his every breath in uneven.

Lars was so far in a happy place, in a daydream of warmth and Mathias and that delicious smell that came with his tears that he couldn't find it in himself to be irritated at the cold, disgusted at the fact they were in a pile of leaves and god knows what, worried at the constant mood swings. He was comfortable and happy to say the least. Things were okay, the city was beautiful and the man beside him even more so and the more said man spoke the more he found himself believing himself that maybe he was just as beautiful as him. He felt just as beautiful and loved as the delicate blue eyes that he felt struggling to stare at him, he felt just as beautiful as what had been forced into his path so many times. Times fallen unnoticed but at the same time the only thing that had been on his mind in his subconscious.

Fatigue had come silently and touched him with it's fingers made of sedatives and then slipped out from under his eyelids to become one with the night again.

xx

_"What's your nam-"_

_"Sssh one night stands don't work that way."_

_"What if I wa-"_

_"I'll find you again." He pressed their foreheads together, hips rolling down onto the Dutchman's. The nameless partner mumbled something about him being too drunk to remember anyway. "I'll find you again. I'll always find you Lars."_


	16. One in a million

Just a baby chapter for you lovelies UwU

**Emily Wells - Becomes The Colour**

* * *

How many times had they met?  
How many times had they crossed paths and thought nothing of it?  
When Lars thought back on it...perhaps more than what could be considerable for coincidence.

_23_

He sat leaning against the window and blowing illegal smoke out of a tiny crack in the frame. He didn't know if his imagination had gotten the best of him but a man stood just outside the window, leaning against one of the supports to the balcony while staring off towards the dozens of beds of flowers that created the garden his sister was so proud of. Surreal didn't even cover it, the celestial being looking so graceful even motionless. Matches were lit only to be proved useless and dropped to the ground only to be followed after another and another. Lars found it endlessly fascinating to watch from his window, the man with his hair that appeared a white washed blonde in the dull luminance of the moon working at emptying a box of matches mindlessly. He looked away briefly to relight the end of the joint that had burnt out from disuse and by the time he'd looked back up the other male had slipped away and Lars would have thought he was a ghost if not for the pile of blackened sticks that lay in a pile as evidence of his being there.

Behind him he heard the faint fall of footsteps and he turned, expecting to see his sister's dozing form but rather came face to face with the blonde who had one arm wrapped loosely around himself and the slope from his neck to his shoulders broken by discolouration in the shape of teeth. He nodded once on his way to the sink, a glass of water being emptied in seconds flat.

"What's your name?" He said, he sounded a little defeated and if Lars wasn't too busy tonguing the end of his joint he would have thought more of it.

"Lars. Who're ya?" The Dutchman scanned his eyes over the other's tiny frame. Tall but skinny, ribs jutting out just a little too much and hipbones protruding from under his briefs a little too clearly. The tattoos that covered the other's arms were incredible to say the least, geometric shapes and constellations and words flowing together into a complex masterpiece. As if he'd noticed Lars' intense interest he began to cocoon himself in a coat that had been slung over a shoulder the duration of the six words that had been exchanged so far.

He smiled and brushed hair out of his eyes, fatigue heavy in his eyes. "Booty call."

"Nice to meet you booty call. So ya here for my sister?" Smoke coughed out with every word, a foul taste lingering on his tongue. When he looked back up to the other's face those tired eyes were glued to the herbal smoke, wordlessly he handed it to him and the other looked almost thankful for the offer.

"Was, she fell asleep so I'm on my way out. Just trying to find my shirt." The joint was back between Lars fingers and he stared on as the other's eyes flitted about.

"Borrow one of my mine, just give it back to her when you see her next."

It was worth it for the light that shined through the mild despair, he never got the shirt back and in retaliation he'd picked up each and every single one of the twenty six sticks of matches and hid them away in a box at the back of his cupboard and for weeks afterwards the only thing he could think about after that short time in the kitchen was the parting sentence that left the blonde's lips and came off like a riddle.

"It was lovely to see you again Lars."

_22_

He had found slaving around after people who's egos were paid by the amount of money in their bank just a little exhausting. Rich men in form fitting suits with cigars hanging off their lips while they bitched about the people not in their meetings worse than the average teenaged girl in between actually talking business. However one of them stuck out like a sore thumb, his eyes were cast down and hidden by the shelter of his lashes to where his fingers lazily tapped at the table top, he looked much to young and had the face of a pretty boy to be apart of the grouping of middle aged men however the only thing that seemed to make it look like he belonged there was the flawlessly tailored suit and the elegance he held even while stationary. The snobbish aura the other men had didn't seem to affect the blonde who remained entirely indifferent to their constant arguments about who had the biggest dick. Either way he was sucking at a marlboro opposed to the shit shaped cigars the other's were nursing and only when Lars was putting down the paper cups of coffee he had to run halfway across town to get next to their name tags did the youngest look up with the most startling coloured eyes he'd ever seen.

Pure blue looking up at him tiredly, a thin lipped smile mouthing a word of gratitude and Lars couldn't help but be regretfully aware of how dark the bruising was under his eyes, how heavy his lids were and how sleepy his smile was.

Lars tried not to appreciate the strength in his jawline nor the perfect mess of his hair.

He tried not to think about the man or perhaps man who he hadn't even thought to look at the name of, he tried not to think about the finer points he was able to rip out of him or the obvious exhaustion that haunted his face. Lars Peeters was almost twenty one years old and for the second or perhaps third time in his life he'd fallen for a complete stranger.

To his dismay he never saw the man again. Or so he let himself believe.

_19_

No it wasn't the grinding like he thought he remembered, perhaps his subconscious had tried to sugar coat the truth out of embarrassment.

The room was nothing more than over intoxicated young adults grinding into each other's sweat and the thought of it would have made Lars sick if it weren't for the fact he had never been higher nor drunker in his entire life. But it was still doable between squinting to try and see where he was going through the alcohol induced blur and the too awkward movement of his limbs. However just as he bumped into somebody with what looked like light hair, he couldn't tell, he found himself doubled over and emptying his guts right onto their shoes. His hand twisted in the other male's shirt he gratefully accepted the help out of the room and if he were a little more sober maybe, just maybe he would have anticipated the fact it might have been to get his head kicked in.

Gradually he was brought more to his senses with the cool breeze and the hand that continuously patted his back at he continuing to power chunder onto something that wasn't the expensive pair of leather shoes on the other's feet. The boot to the nose never came and rather the stranger he had just thrown up on was trying to soothe the violent heaving that reached his throat.

"Oh fu...fu...ck...sorry." He managed to slur against the back of his hand, a pathetic attempt to wipe away the evidence of his weakness.

"Nah it's fine. Live on campus?"

"Mmmmm."

He held out his hand silently and against his better judgement Lars gave him the key. The stranger laughed and dragged him across familiar grounds until his boarding house looked at least a little familiar, just a bit. Only when his nose was right up against the plaque that stated where exactly he was.

Even then he couldn't read, in all reality he had no fucking clue where he was. But from the stench of B.O. and the familiar odour of his own cheap cologne he figured they'd ended up at the right place. Time was twisted in his drunken and high state of mind, he couldn't calculate if it had taken the stranger minutes, hours or seconds to dump him on his bed and tuck the sheet under his chin.

"You good?" He said, fiddling with end of his shirt.

"Ye..a.h.. why are you just ya know...Standing there?"

"I have morals and one of those is not taking advantage of somebody who's drunk."

"But wh.. if I _want_ you to Mr...?"

The other's laughter was rich and set something deep in his groin, despite how hammered he was his body was responding to everything rapid speed even if what the other was doing wasn't supposed to fill the purpose of being sultry. He sat up, the sheet being clutched under his bottom lip which he obsessively rubbed against his face, the cool fabric felt amazing against his face.

"If you want to then I don't want you to kill me in the morning."

Lars grinned lopsidedly at that and whooped a little too loud at the other's resolve to which he produced another chuckle from the blonde...he thought.

"Perhaps only for a night."

He couldn't care less what was said as he dragged the man down from his point of standing to on top of him.

_16_

He turned his head over his shoulder continuously, curious as to how the fuck he was the only one who noticed the kid dressed in full black at the back of the class with his feet on the table and his hand scribbling over his arm.

This time he could see his face, the hood came back enough to give him a view of clear blue and a small smile that looked like it had been permanently carved in stone. At the nod from the other kid he rose quickly and sat beside him.

They know how it went. How he sat there entirely mesmerised by the short, cryptic words and half assed covered arms that he would later find out would be covered in permanent ink to mask his regrets.

They just didn't know how afterwards, weeks after that meeting he'd sat at a desk trying to recreate the angles of his jaw onto paper, or how he'd tried in a million different ways to describe the shade of his skin contrasting against the blue and red of pen ink. They didn't know how he'd sit beside anybody with the same almost pale blue tone that resided in the teens skin in the hopes that perhaps he'd find him again. He wanted to go back in time and change the events that left him with a nameless and faceless object of obsession, however his lack of social skills had well and truly deteriorated by that point and mildly pissed off at himself he continued on writing on the backs of flat surfaces about the one that hardly spoke yet was so captivating.

_10_

He sat in the tulip fields that surrounded his grandparents cottage and felt a sense of freedom being so far away but still so close from people. From such a young age childlike wonder had claimed his life and made everything so much more interesting but at the rapid speed he matured everything seemed duller and duller so he took what time he could knowing it wouldn't last. Like his parents. They didn't last.

What did they even look like, he couldn't remember.

They didn't last like the ancient oak trees that had once been on either side of their driveway, they didn't last like the atoms that were always being replaced to fill the gaps of ones lost. People didn't work that way unfortunately for him and now he was left at a young age to simmer in thoughts about what could have been done differently to ensure they at least out lived the budding trees that died away in the winter.

However what was to be remembered was the sight of a little boy, running through the fields followed closely by a woman Lars presumed to be his mother. His laughter rung throughout the endless stretch of red and yellow as she scooped him up in her arms and spun him around. The laughter quickly turned to blood-curdling screams that left the young boy, Lars found himself pressing his hands to his ears to block it out as the peace was disturbed. By that point Lars could see the child's dirty bare feet and his freckles cheeks and the light blue eyes that resembled the clear sky above their heads. He would be pretty when he was older, beautiful perhaps Lars thought as he dropped his hands from his face and continued playing with the stems of tulips leisurely.

The child locked eyes with him and his screaming stopped, mild confusion crossing his features before he was being carried away by the dark haired woman in the peach coloured dress and the entire way they never broke contact.

He felt like he'd meet that kid again sometime.

If only he'd concentrated more that day to remember clearly when he was older.


End file.
